


Tales From the House at Red Candle's Light

by whaleandjanuary



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/M, Kinktober, M/M, Multi, Other, the dimitri brothel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleandjanuary/pseuds/whaleandjanuary
Summary: Everybody comes to the House in a different way. Claude finds a secret door in his room. Marianne rides to the woods to an impossible entrance in an ancient tree. Felix has strange dreams. Sylvain goes to any old establishment and sometimes it's the right one.They come seeking different things - a lost love, an old friend, absolution or punishment from the king they betrayed. Frequently, they just seek sex.But whatever they wish, Dimitri waits, at a price.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Everyone
Comments: 71
Kudos: 107
Collections: Horny Void





	1. Sylvain, D/s

**Author's Note:**

> My intention here is to do little ficlets - < 1000 words. I'd like to eventually produce 31, but I'm kidding myself if I really say I'm going to do one a day. (Just between you and me, let's see if I can get ten out by the end of October.) 
> 
> Chapter 1 is Sylvain: D/s, Sylvain being submissive, crying, humiliation/degradation, whatever you call "making someone be a table"

Sylvain has been kneeling long enough that he's lost track of how long it's been. Twenty minutes? But this is how it always is. He kneels, while his king ignores him. Dimitri busies himself at his desk, or eats, or sometimes leaves the room entirely. Until Sylvain's bored and empty and thinks, "This is the time he's really _not_ going to acknowledge me." 

But every time so far, his king has eventually deigned to speak to him. 

"What could I possibly want with a traitor such as you?" Dimitri doesn't look up from the book he's reading, but his voice still cuts through Sylvain. He shudders. 

"I throw myself upon your mercy," Sylvain says. 

"I have no mercy." Dimitri flips a page. Goddess, the voice is perfect. What is this man doing languishing here instead of acting? Then again, perhaps he's better paid here. "Everything Sylvain is carrying," is always the price the host demands of him. 

"Then I..." It's always a struggle to find the right words. "I await your judgement." 

"No." The book slams shut. "You say you are here for whatever I have to give you, but you are _lying_." Dimitri moves _so fast_. He's up from his chair and next to Sylvain in a second. Sylvain's breathing quickens and he tries not to show fear as he looks up at Dimitri's cold expression. His eyes hold only disdain. 

Dimitri puts his hand on the back of Sylvain's neck and shoves him forward until he has to use his hands to catch himself. "Avert your eyes. I do not give you permission to look at me." Dimitri keeps pressure on Sylvain's neck, a firm hold. _Stay._ Sylvain fights the urge to get up and run. He needs this. His heart is pounding and his pants are already tight. He might not like it but he needs it. 

Dimitri lets go, and Sylvain stays down. "You wretch. You say you are here for punishment. You are here for forgiveness and that I _will not give you._ Do you truly think you can work off your sins until you forget what my face looked like as I lay dying in the mud?"

Sylvain's eyes water. He needs this so badly. 

There is a long pause, broken only by Sylvain fighting back a sob. Dimitri always makes him wonder what's coming. Well, "Dimitri." Well - no, it's not worth giving himself a headache over. 

Eventually, Dimitri says, "Confess, then. What are you, Sylvain?" 

"I'm..." He takes a shaky breath in and out. "I'm a traitor. I betrayed my country and my king. I slew my friends for a chance at freedom and I still -"

Dimitri's hand is back on his neck, and a spike of terrified arousal lances through Sylvain. "What _are_ you, Sylvain?" Dimitri is down on one knee beside him. Sylvain doesn't dare look but he can feel the king's breath. 

"I'm the Margrave. Margrave Gautier, and I'm trying to - I'm going to fix things with Sreng but I -" 

Dimitri _pushes_ , and Sylvain makes a small, frightened noise and lowers his head further. "Did I ask for pathetic excuses?" 

"No." Dimitri digs his nails into Sylvain's skin and does not let go until Sylvain chokes out, "No, Your Majesty." 

Dimitri's voice is still cold, but anger is seeping in. "What. Are. You. Sylvain?" 

Sylvain has no idea what he wants to hear, has no idea if there even is a correct answer. But he has definitely pissed off Dimitri enough in the past to get the _bad_ kind of suffering. It's what he deserves, but Dimitri's right that he doesn't actually want it at the moment. 

"I-" 

" _No._ " 

Sylvain starts tossing out whatever pops into his head. "I'm pathetic! Awful! A murderer! A cheat! A terrible friend, lonely, miserable, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what you want..." Tears finally overflow Sylvain's eyes and start dropping to the carpet. 

Dimitri sighs, moves his hand to grab a fistful of Sylvain's hair, and yanks his head up. "What you _are_ is depressingly stupid." Sylvain closes his eyes and silently shakes his head _yes_. 

"Open your eyes and look at me," Dimitri says, and pulls Sylvain closer. "You are an empty person, desperate to be filled with something that matters." 

Oh, thank the Goddess. At least he _can_ earn Dimitri's cock tonight, even if it's just to choke on. 

Another tear rolls down Sylvain's cheek. He struggles to focus on Dimitri. "I'm empty. Please fill me, Your Majesty." 

Dimitri sneers and pushes him away. "You should be embarrassed for yourself." He gets to his feet and stands in front of Sylvain. "Take off all your clothes. Do not stand to undress. Be on your hands and knees facing that wall when I return. You are not to look up from the floor or speak unless explicitly told to. You're worse trained than the hounds, but even a rock should be able to be silent and still, hm?" 

Sylvain nods. Dimitri leaves the room. Sylvain strips and folds his clothing into a neat pile. (He would do this regardless of Dimitri's orders, but he suspects he's not supposed to make a mess.) 

Dimitri returns fairly quickly; for once Sylvain doesn't have to wait long. Sylvain can only see carpet from his current position, but he hears light clinking. As Dimitri approaches and sets something down on the floor, Sylvain can smell cinnamon. Food then, possibly tea. 

Dimitri disappears for another minute, then returns and sits cross-legged at Sylvain's side. He places an object down and Sylvain can just see out of the corner of his eye that it's the book he was previously reading. 

The teapot, placed between Sylvain's shoulder blades, is hot. It's not enough to burn, but it's uncomfortable and Sylvain has to force himself to stay still. Dimitri adds various other objects - a spoon, a saucer, probably a plate of some sort of food. 

"Let us see if you can make a satisfactory table, and work your way up to being a hound." 

Sylvain focuses on his breathing. His cheeks are red with shame, but his cock twitches at Dimitri's dismissive words. 

"Keep your hips still. I will be displeased if you spill anything. Open up." Sylvain opens his mouth and Dimitri places the metal handle of the sugar bowl against his tongue. "Close." Sylvain closes his mouth. The bowl hangs from the handle. Now he's well and truly trapped. He can't open his mouth without dropping the bowl and he can't put the bowl down without bending enough to drop everything on his back. Sylvain can't stop himself from groaning. 

"Silence. If you drop the bowl or drool in the sugar, I think you will have an unpleasant evening. If you can make it until I finish my book, I'll evaluate your request for _filling_." 

Something cold and metallic runs up the underside of Sylvain's cock. He jerks and there's an alarming rattle. 

"Oh, you are _very_ lucky. Try to have more self-control next time, Margrave." 

It's torture. The whole thing is torture. 

And he needs it _so fucking badly_.


	2. Marianne, food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne, hand-feeding (into food kink a bit), Dimitri's raging oral fixation. CW: mention of suicide (nothing happens) This takes place during the timeskip of an unspecified route.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The horny level of these pieces is going to be all over the board, I'm realizing. I think this one is more "sweet." (Sylvain will be back at least once more.)

Two years ago, Marianne von Edmund rode out into the woods with the intention of never returning home. But while she wandered, after she'd left Mystery to run back to the house alone, she'd found something impossible. A tree, ancient and giant, with a door in its trunk. That might have been a real thing, but the door was flanked by candles that flickered with a reddish light, and stayed burning even in the breeze.

And the secret behind the door, inside and down to an implausible garden, had given her something to fight for. And something to return for. She came by at least once a month, and more if she could. 

He was her impossible little secret. Her impossible big secret, strong and warm, comfort against the ever-threatening darkness of the worlds outside the door or inside her mind. 

"Open up," she says, "You need to eat something, Dimitri." She touches a grape to his lips. 

He pouts briefly, but he opens his mouth to take the grape. He kisses her fingertips. 

She brushes his bangs out of his eyes. Even with his hair pulled back, somehow it's always falling in his eyes anyway. She's trimmed it a few times, and she used to think it just grew incredibly fast. Before one of him explained how it worked. 

She loves how she can bring a little bit of joy to a lot of people. 

They're sitting together on a blanket in a little tucked-away part of the garden, hidden from view by some plants with giant blue flowers she cannot name. Dimitri says there are many other people in the House, but she's never felt the need to explore. Not here, sitting in Dimitri's lap, with his arms wrapped around her waist and his body heat pouring into her like a fireplace on a chilly night. 

He's older today, late thirties, maybe. He's confident enough to have dropped the eyepatch, and he's grown a neat beard that tickled her thighs when he buried his face in her earlier. Dimitri was always enthusiastic but today he was _experienced_ , and he'd gotten her off again and again until she was wobbly and exhausted. 

"I've eaten enough," he says, as she pushes the buttered roll on him again. "I'm not hungry for food." He kisses her neck, and says in a quiet voice, "Time's too short to waste on bread and cheese." 

She puts a hand on his cheek and gently pushes his face back into view. She gives him a hopefully-serious look, with one eyebrow raised. "If you faint from hunger, how can I ride you again?" 

He flushes slightly, which is the most endearing thing she's ever seen in this world. They are literally naked, and have been making love on and off for hours, and his cheeks still bloom when she says anything even slightly dirty. 

She breaks a piece off the roll, and holds it out until he reluctantly eats it. "You don't have to let go of me. You just have to chew, and swallow, and - oh." There's a little smear of butter on her fingertip. "- and help me keep my hands clean." 

Dimitri takes her fingertip into his mouth and sucks it clean with a sweet little hum. 

Then she feeds him a bit more messily. Oh no, she's spilled a few drops of the lemonade on her chest. He kisses them away. 

He nibbles her fingertips every time she pops a grape into his mouth. The butter really is too soft - ah, she's gotten some into the crevices between her fingers. He trails his tongue up and down each finger, and finishes with a kiss pressed into the palm of her hand. 

"Thank you, love," she says, and he glows at her soft smile. 

She dips two fingers into the lemonade and traces a spiral around one breast. He looks hungrily as she rubs a nipple. He noses her hand away and follows her path with his lips and tongue. He pulls her closer. He's definitely ready to go again. 

"Almost, Dimitri," she says. He's gently sucking on her breast and it's a delightful distraction but there's dessert left. 

"There was cake as well." He picks his head up and she paints his lips with frosting. He laughs, eyes crinkling, and tries to lick his lips. 

"All right, this may be too much for no hands." He's gotten some on his cheek. 

She laughs and puts the cake down. She can help him kiss it away. And then she's kissing his lips as well and his mouth tastes so sweet. 

Mm, perhaps they can skip the cake for now.


	3. Byleth/Goo Monster (no Dimitri this chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes they need to navigate the void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Byleth/sentient goo monster. There are actually no onscreen Dimitris despite my referring to this whole thing as "the Dimitri brothel." 
> 
> Byleth is nonbinary and I'm using AFAB language here, but other chapters may use other language.
> 
> cw: weird mouth stuff and fear of suffocation (but nobody gets hurt.) 
> 
> (no promises but I might come back to the goo monster I kind of love them now)

Sometimes they need to navigate the void. 

Usually it's enough for the doors to move around in their mysterious way, but sometimes larger parts of the House need to _be_ somewhere. For example: when someone is paying them in a year's supply of flour, or on the rare occasions they need to cart a Demonic Beast inside or out. 

And also, the strange geometries of the House must be anchored _somewhere_. They cannot float forever in the void or the rooms would collapse in on themselves. 

So, on occasion, Space Lysinette (that's Byleth's private name for them - an Annette and Lysithea from some faraway future who are at the House doing postdoctoral research) must unfurl the metaphorical sails and bring the House from one elsewhere to another. 

It's never uneventful, and that drives Byleth absolutely bonkers. It's called _the void_ ; should it not be empty? 

The banging starts almost immediately, from the South Turnwise wing (entrances for Ashe, Ignatz, and unaccompanied Huberts.) Byleth jogs down the hall with Lorenz at their side, silver lance in hand. The on-duty bouncer/interdimensional threat squad is presumably on its way, but they were the two people close by at the time. 

"Why is it always something?" sighs Lorenz, as they get to the Steak and Cake, one of the restaurants. "It's called the bloody 'void.' Shouldn't it be empty?"

"We make this joke every time - oh, that's bad," says Byleth, taking in the windows. 

Something black is pressed up against the windows. But it's not just black. It's got every other color, and they flow like a mirror glaze, especially the big swaths of pink. But it's also still entirely black. But it also sparkles, although those might be the reflections of faraway stars. It looks wet. 

Creatures are the worst kind of _eventful_ , and the more amorphous they are, the harder they are to predict. But Byleth doesn't see any teeth or claws, which is usually a good sign. 

The banging is a steady cadence, coming from the center of the door. It's _knocking_.

Byleth holds up two fingers and starts walking towards the outer door. "Give me two minutes. If I'm not out by then, kill it." 

"By _myself_? With an unenchanted lance?" 

"Well, see if you can attack it into letting me go. We'll have reinforcements soon." Lorenz makes A Noise. 

Byleth opens the door and says, hopefully, "Hi. Can we help you?" 

Then Byleth takes a very quick breath as a wave of, for lack of a better word, _goo_ flows over them. It is definitely wet, and it's warm and makes Byleth's skin tingle. This is good because it's something of a distraction from Byleth's _rising panic_ as sentient voidstuff covers their face and starts crawling up their nose. 

Byleth sways and starts to fall, but the slime flows around their back and they're supported, partially suspended, one foot off the ground. It is warm it's not hot it's just warm and soft and - Byleth needs air and the stuff has eased Byleth's mouth open and flowed around and under their tongue. The goo is exploring, Byleth thinks. There's a ripple of pressure around the edge of Byleth's tongue and then the goo pulls their tongue out of their mouth. Byleth tries to lick back but they're helpless to do more than feel the creature's caresses. They taste cherry - no, blood - no, tomato? 

A bulbous mass of the stuff rolls up Byleth's tongue and presses into the back of their throat. Byleth can't fight the urge to breathe while they're forced open like this. They're going to inhale the stuff and then they're going to be well and truly the wrong kind of fucked. But there's an abrupt - spark? - of something and Byleth's diaphragm relaxes and their brain stops yelling for air. Now nothing's fighting the feeling warm enveloping pressure all over their body and Byleth shudders with pleasure. 

There's sound, and Byleth can't understand, but it is a voice? The goo has soaked through or flowed under Byleth's clothes and is filling Byleth's cunt and ass. It is a voice, it must be a voice, and yes, oh, it's not slime it's too firm to be slime but it's stretching them and it's so deep. Their cunt is _full_ and the pressure on their walls is incredible, and when they clench their muscles the goo reacts like something solid. 

Byleth tries to move one of their arms; they have to touch their clit. They need to get some control back. But their arms are trapped, floating. Their struggles have them writhing against all of the goo inside them, and they make a strangled spasm in their throat that would be a moan if they had any air. 

Now Byleth knows there's a voice because Byleth feels it say, "ah a fun bubbling" and the encompassing goo vibrates, including - especially - the stuff that's still pushing deeper into their ass. 

It's too much for them to hold back _not that they are trying_ Byleth wants the toe-curling orgasm that's shaking their body. Byleth's vision whites out and the voice is closer - it's a chorus and it's _inside them now_ and past the white Byleth can see all the creature's colors and know how they talk - 

There is a rapid and wordless negotiation somewhere above the level of conscious thought, while Byleth writhes in dazed ecstacy and the creature pushes at all their sensitive places. 

Then the monster deposits Byleth on the ground and abruptly withdraws from their body. Byleth gasps and lays there, still clenching through aftershocks. 

Lorenz is kneeling at their head. "How do I help you? What does it want?" He takes Byleth's hand and holds it to his chest. 

"It's -" Byleth coughs. They're soaked, but the residue still feels warm. "- it's hiring us. It's a client." The goo was flowing through the restaurant toward the hallway, unfortunately taking out several tables along the way. 

"And we're letting it do this... so it doesn't kill us?" 

"No, it's a _client_. It's paying." Byleth reaches into one of their pockets and pulls out a handful of brightly glowing rocks. Byleth drops them on the ground. "It's paying us in pure magic. It can fuck whoever it wants, including me again." 

Lorenz looks at the stones with wide eyes. He knows how much power that handful represents, and Byleth knows all of their pockets are full. 

"Lorenz, I'll be okay. I think it can understand spoken words. Go lead it to the masquerade ballroom and have it wait there. Get at least five adventurous Dimas and make sure they all go in at once; that thing has a _lot_ of energy. And then put out a general call for anyone who's interested in playing with it. If any of the in-House clients want to join in, they're welcome. Don't charge them."

"Oh. What about, er, that is -"

"Yes, Lorenz, you can fuck the goo monster too if you want to." Byleth pushes themself up on one elbow. "Seriously, it's incredible."

#

hoo the little creatures delicious ??? flickering magic sounds pulled #? holes holes full of holes we i we all of us will fill to stretch but not to burst &)* no it pulses %% look they leak why not keep all the fluid in one place no matter +@+ ah the soundscape mmm lack a dell spin the flowers they like when you pet them $**$** that's the sound they make when they're happy it's pretty sort of yellow and studious we'll add it @#$ nrhmwr shake shake empty now $$#@ more come OH THEY squeak * if * you * rub * them together )))))) we are filling too but not with holes ^^ the noise words too the names sing %& i think &% i hope $$ we should leave a nice tip @#$%%%%

#

Byleth does not, as a rule, participate in services. Byleth's body is untouched and inviolate. They run the House and stand above it. Byleth cannot be hired at any price.

Once Byleth has made sure someone can take care of the damage to the Steak and Cake, they fucking sprint after the monster. 

(Byleth updates the House map later. South Turnwise wing, entrances for Ashe, Ignatz, unaccompanied Huberts, and red-flavor goo monsters.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not expect to have a chapter on 10/4, just fyi. Hopefully back 10/5.


	4. Felix, Dimitri, Annette, and Mercedes - noncon, mind control, lactation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good boys get to drink their milk. Eventually, so do the bad ones. 
> 
> This is Felix being held down by Dimitri and Annette while Mercedes force-feeds him mind-controlling breastmilk. That is definitely a sentence that I just wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, this chapter is non-con, although there's no actual sex. There is force-feeding (force-drinking?), a brief possible-ED mention, lactation, and mind-control. 
> 
> You may be thinking, "This feels like the author had an off-topic idea and shoehorned it into their existing Kinktober structure," and you'd be right. But you also can't stop me. 
> 
> That having been said, I really feel like I'm going to have to stand before God and answer for this chapter when I die.

What follows is an excerpt from the first edition of _Guide to the Blue Lions: Intermediate Sex Workbook_ , by Y. LeClerc and B. Eisner. This is one of the training manuals used at the House. We also offer classes to outsiders. Please inquire inside as to schedule and fees.

#

_Please read the following, which was created from an actual account by visitors from a War-Moon-Charm-Wild/Heaven shard. Then answer the questions below._

The first tears fall as Dimitri forces Felix to his knees. How could he betray Felix like this? He was better, had truly seemed better, and now this? Tying Felix's hands behind his back, kneeling on his ankles so he couldn't rise, wrapping his arms around Felix like some sort of sadistic hug? You shouldn't even be able to say "sadistic" and "hug" in the same sentence, but if anyone could put them together it would be the boar. 

"It'll be okay, Felix," says Annette, wiping the tears off his cheeks. She's taken her gloves off, and her fingertips are warm but offer no comfort. "It'll feel good. It'll help you relax." 

"I don't need to relax. You need to let me go. _How could you do this to me?_ You lied to me." Felix's voice is shaky and that enrages him. He's still struggling in the boar's unyielding grip, but he's already tired from full-out sprinting to get away and from fighting Dimitri the whole way back to the room. His voice is hoarse from screaming and he doesn't know who is left to save him. Nobody, he thinks.

"I'm sorry, Felix," says Annette, cradling his face in her hands. "It was just a little lie. We didn't think you'd come if you knew Prince Dimitri was here with us." 

Felix had known something was wrong when Sylvain stopped talking about girls. Or... trying to stop getting Felix to go out with him in the evenings. Just reading or some light training and then sleep? And when Felix asked _what was wrong_ , he just said he didn't feel like he needed it anymore? That was terrifying, so outside of Sylvain's character that he had to have gone mad. 

Then Ingrid became more cheerful and stopped eating like she'd spent her childhood in a famine (which she had), and Dedue started _talking more_ , and people seemed happy in a... a _blank_ way. Felix started following them around and they were spending a lot of time in Mercedes's room. Sometimes alone, sometimes together. 

And then Dimitri had come out of the Cathedral and _apologized_ and said he didn't want to listen to his ghosts anymore but he needed everybody's help and they had to all work together. And Felix's old man had been so relieved and truth be told, so had Felix. He wanted to believe it was real _so badly_.

But then Dimitri had invited Felix to come visit Mercedes with him, that she had helped Dimitri with his problems and maybe she could help Felix with his. And Felix had disdainfully said, "What problems?" and stormed off. But that had been a cover for Felix to flee, because the way he ordered his words wasn't the way Dimitri talked, and that meant that the idea of Dimitri's recovery was a horrible lie. 

"Oh, Felix," says a voice from the bed. Mercedes. She stands and approaches him. She is wearing only a skirt, and he stares at her bare breasts before snapping his eyes up to glare at her face. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." 

"Fuck you," he says. He feels Dimitri chuckle into his neck and he shudders with arou - revulsion. "What have you done to everybody?" 

She smiles beatifically. "I'm helping people. Everyone has problems they don't know how to solve themselves. Even you, Felix. Especially you, Felix." 

"I'm not your little brother!" he said. "Stop trying to treat me like one." Felix throws his head back, thinking maybe he can break Dimitri's nose, but he doesn't make contact. Mercedes ruffles his hair while he burns himself out on another wave of struggling. 

He should have just confronted Mercedes a week ago. But he'd waited for the fight to come to him, and why? He'd been paralyzed by indecision and look where that had gotten him. 

He'd begged Ashe not to go. But when he couldn't convince him, he'd said, "Fine. Go get cursed or bodyswapped or whatever the hell is happening over there. I don't care." He should have gone with Ashe. He could have protected him. The two of them together could have been ok. 

Mercedes shakes her head like she's disappointed in him, and Felix briefly feels _bad_. "You need to relax, but that's what we're here to help you do. We all care about you, but Dima and Annie are both here because they love you so much." 

"So much," whispers Dimitri, and he kisses the shell of Felix's ear and Felix tries to crawl out of his own skin. _Not like this not like this!_

"Mercie, may I help relax him?" asks Annette. 

"Of course!" Mercedes claps her hands. "You're so good to ask." She bends down and kisses Annette on the lips.

Annette gently pats and rubs his arms and legs. She strokes his chest. She kisses him on the forehead. 

"This isn't helping, Annette. Please, please let me go." He sniffs back a sob. Here he is, being touched by the two people he most wants to touch and failing to derive any pleasure from it at all.

It had been Annette who'd gotten him in the end. _Come with me to talk to Mercedes_ , she'd said. _Just the two of us. Just talking._ And he'd gone with her, because he could never say no to Annette, and because she was the only person who hadn't had some weird personality change, and because he was a moron. 

And they'd gotten to the room and Mercedes was half-dressed and that was weird but the real problem was that Dimitri was there, smiling with puppy-dog eagerness, and _Annette wasn't surprised to see him_. Felix's eyes started to fill with tears as he realized the reason Annie hadn't had some sort of change was because whatever this was, she was doing it _willingly_. 

"Are you thirsty, Felix?" Mercedes asks, kindly. "You've done a lot of running today. Would you like a drink?" 

A stream of expletives runs through Felix's mind. Ashe had said something Felix now realizes he'd misheard as "mercy milk" but he must have meant...

"I will _bite your nipples off_." Felix bares his teeth. 

Mercedes massages her breasts. "Felix, I think your biggest problem is that you know how to reject things but how not to accept them. Dima, can you open his mouth for me?" 

"Of course, Mercie," says Dimitri, and starts squeezing the sides of Felix's mouth. 

When he saw the scene in Mercedes's room, Felix had turned and fled as fast as he could. He was faster than the boar... but not faster _enough_. He couldn't lose Dimitri, and he kept slowing himself down to look behind him because he was panicking himself stupid, and the boar was the sort of sleepless monster who could chase him until he died of old age. Eventually Felix couldn't sprint anymore, and though he kept running, Dimitri caught up to him and slung Felix over his shoulder like he was a whining child trying to avoid bedtime. 

Felix still fought him, of course, but his leverage was terrible and Annette had caught up to them. She was able to heal what little damage Felix could do. The boar didn't even seem to feel it. He kept saying things like, "You'll be so happy once she shows you how to be a good boy too!" Felix assumed this was meant to be reassuring instead of fantastically creepy.

Now Dimitri is opening Felix's mouth through brute force. Felix suffers the terrible suspicion that whatever Mercedes has planned is _going_ to happen to him, and his only choice is whether it's going to happen to him with or without a broken jaw. But that doesn't mean he's going down trivially. Felix opens his mouth, Dimitri shoves several fingers in, and Felix bites down as hard as he can. 

"He's hurting me," Dimitri says quietly. Felix tastes blood. "Felix, don't hurt me. I want to help you." 

More tears roll down Felix's cheeks. He doesn't want to hurt Dimitri but he has to get away if he's going to rescue anybody. Annette's still trying to pet him and he can't even tell her it's not working anymore. 

"You're being a very good boy, Dima," says Mercedes. "I'll patch you up as soon as Felix calms down a little. Can you move your fingers to the side of Felix's mouth and tip his head back for me?"

Dimitri can do it one-handed, and Felix stares up at Mercedes in impotent rage. She dips her fingers into his mouth and wets them on his tongue. 

"They have to know you," she says, rubbing her fingers over each nipple. He hopes she can tell the incoherent noise coming from his mouth is him cursing her out.

"You need to relax, Felix. I want to help you, but you need to relax first. It's going to be ok." Mercedes stands over him and squeezes her breasts until milk pours down into his open mouth. 

It's a mess. Felix isn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't a dozen tiny streams going off at different angles, some but not all of which go into his mouth. Milk splashes onto one of his cheeks. He can't spit like he wants to. He tries to tilt his head so the milk pours out, but Dimitri holds him fast. It's hard to swallow like this but he doesn't want to swallow anyway. But he can't hold it all and he's choking and - He tries to cough it out, but he can tell he's swallowed some of it. Fuck. 

Dimitri's saying soothing nonsense in his ear. Mercedes keeps spraying milk into his mouth, and he can't help but drink. Annette kisses his face where he's wet, which is everywhere. 

Somewhere after the fourth mouthful he realizes nothing's happening and he starts crying again in relief. He'd expected dizziness, or some sort of horrifying warmth invading his body, or a feeling like he was floating outside himself. But no, he just feels like Felix on his knees, drinking sweet-and-bitter milk in a really stupid fashion. 

Whatever it's supposed to be doing, he's immune to it. Heh. He's probably too stubborn to be mind-controlled. Thank the Goddess. Maybe he can just pretend it's worked, and they'll let him go. 

Dimitri must feel him stop struggling, because he pulls his fingers free from Felix's mouth. Felix sees Annette take his hand and pass healing light over it. Mercie keeps giving Felix more milk, but it's a lighter flow now. 

"Just like that, Felix. You've cried a lot today. You probably need to replenish some fluids."

He's glad he's not in a position to speak yet, because he has no idea how Mercie is expecting him to talk. He just nods, and then he sticks out his tongue so he stops getting so much milk on his face. 

Dimitri puts his arms around Felix again but now it's clearly an embrace. It's soft. Dimitri splays out a hand on Felix's chest. He talks into the back of Felix's neck. It tickles a little but his breath is warm. 

"I'm sorry I had to drag you back here. I knew Mercie could help you understand but I didn't know how to. I've missed you so much, Felix. We all have so much fun together. I know I'm being selfish but I wanted to play with you too." His hands move low enough that Felix can understand the way in which _play_ is a euphemism. 

Dimitri - interested in him? Is it really mutual or has Mercie made him act like this? 

"But Dima's going to _share_ ," says Annie, who gives him an intense look. "Lots of people want to play with you." She puts her hand on his inner thigh and squeezes possessively. 

Fuck, is this a sex thing? Has this always just been a sex thing? Everybody's weird now because they're fucking? Sylvain's not going out because he's getting laid here? 

Mercie drops her hands. "How do you feel now? Do you feel relaxed?" 

"I - yeah. I do." It was because he knew he could get out of here ok and not because he was being mind-controlled by weird (sex?) milk, but Mercie didn't need to know that. 

"I'm so glad, Felix. I know you carry around a lot of stress. We will talk about it later, but I suspect now you'd like Dima and Annie to play with you, wouldn't you?" 

"Yes, please," he says. That sounds suitably vacant, right? And he just needs to have sex with the two hottest people he knows in order to escape tonight? He doesn't even need to pretend he's hypnotized or whatever to do that. 

"May I have some milk, Mercie?" asks Dimitri. "I've been a good boy, haven't I?" 

Mercie pats his head. "Yes, of course, now that Felix has had a turn. Why don't you come join me on the bed and have a quick drink while Annie helps Felix get out of his wet clothes? And then Annie can come have some milk while you show Felix some of what you've learned?" 

Dima stands while Annie asks, "Can I play with him tonight too? Is there time?" 

Felix lunges forward and kisses her quickly on the lips. "We'll make time. Or we can all... we can all be together?" 

Mercie laughs. "That's the spirit, Felix!" 

Annie starts to move around him to untie his hands, but stops. "Felix. Your face!" 

"What?" he asks, suddenly concerned. Was he having a reaction to the milk?

"You're not frowning! Your eyebrows aren't wrinkled! Felix, you look _happy_!" 

"Oh, uh..." He's not sure what to say to that, but he feels like he's blushing. 

"Felix, you're so pretty." Dima drops his shirt to the floor and starts pulling his trousers down and _wow_ is Felix having a weird night. 

"You're pretty, too. Come back soon; I miss you." Felix thinks about how else to compliment him, but Annie has untied his hands, so he turns and uses his finally-free arms to pull them both down to the ground. He kisses her. He can totally do this. Nobody's going to think there's anything wrong. 

Annie puts her hands on his cheeks again, but now it's warm and comforting. "I like you like this. You should drink some more of Mercie's milk before you leave. It'll help you sleep well." 

Felix could do that. He didn't really like sweet things, but it tasted ok. And if it would make Annie feel better, he could do it.

#

_Questions:_

1.) Did the milk work on Felix? Explain your answer. 

2.) Based on your knowledge of Felix from previous experience and from other stories in this chapter, how do you expect him to behave the next day? The next week? Will he voluntarily return to Mercedes?

3.) Mercedes says: "I think your biggest problem is that you know how to reject things but not how to accept them." Do you think this accurately describes Felix? Why or why not?

4.) If you were Felix, how would you have behaved differently at various points in the story? (If you are a Felix, please consider situations where your friends would have advised you to behave differently.)

5.) Compare and contrast hypnomilk with at least two other forms of mind-control that the House is aware of. 

6.) If a client wanted to roleplay this scenario, what discussion and protocol would need to be in place for it to qualify as consensual non-consent?

_At-home experiment:_

Ask the Apothecary for a sample of hypnomilk tea. (Note: this is not actual hypnomilk, which cannot be stored. But it will have a similar effect.) Have a trusted friend brew it for you, then drink. Have them ask you questions. Record your reactions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the chapter count to 10 because the "31" was stressing me out. I'm quite confident I can do 10 but more iffy on doing 31. (I originally had fifteen ideas so we'll see where I end up.) 
> 
> I'm aiming for Thursday 10/8 for the next chapter, which is likely to be dimiclaude a/b/o-with-a-twist, or more dimivain humiliation (some combination of maid costume / in public / cock cages). I guess let me know if you have a preference.


	5. Sylvain, humiliation, public use

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain continues to work his way up from "furniture."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains: Sylvain being used as a coatrack, bondage, humiliation, more D/s stuff, public use, nipple clamps, and clothespins. There is also: a bit of Sylvix but with a different Sylvain, a bit of Dimiashe partially in the background, and one sentence of Dorobernie.

The lounge is free, more or less. Anyone who's entered the House for other reasons is welcome to wait there before or after a sesson. The drinks aren't always free, but someone is frequently buying. There's often entertainment - live music, some sort of demonstration, someone up for public use. 

The lounge is never empty. 

So the fact that Sylvain is _alone_ in the lounge is an extra special sting. 

Sylvain is in the lounge for free, sort of. He's not paying any _more_ to be here than his usual price. He's not paying extra for the metal bar that's spreading his arms to their full extension. Nor for the second bar locking his ankles apart. Nor for the two steel poles driven into the floor on either side of him that both of the bars are attached to. His front and back are completely exposed. Sylvain is utterly helpless to resist anyone trying to touch him. 

If only anyone were trying to touch him. 

Dimitri _joked_ that Sylvain was paying extra for the bit gag, but the House generally didn't do weird add-on pricing. Sylvain wasn't one for micromanaging his sessions, anyway. At this point, the staff knew he wanted to come here, get metaphorically destroyed, and not have to have opinions about the whole deal. 

Today probably would have been a good day to have opinions, though, since there was nothing in his ass or on his dick, and he was dying of boredom. 

What he's wearing (using a loose definition of the term) is: several coats slung over his arms, the words "instructions on back" written over his chest in lipstick, and ... some instructions on his back, which he can't fucking read. Presumably they say "ignore me" or "hang your coats on me but don't talk to me," because that is certainly what is happening to him. 

His Dimitri did this to him sometimes. (Not "his" Dimitri - his Dimitri was long dead, and Sylvain had been rewarded by the Emperor for his part in it. But - the one he saw here.) Just _left_ him someplace, or inserted a vibrator and never turned it on, or stroked him to completion and then slapped him hard enough he lost his orgasm. Dimitri owned Sylvain's pleasure, and Sylvain needed a lot of reminders that it was Dimitri who chose when to grant it. 

Sylvain was still bored out of his fucking mind. This wasn't the kind of submission he was good at. You could smack him around, call him a whore, make him suck dick till he couldn't move his mouth, and he'd stay hard and desperate the whole time. This sort of thing killed him. Dimitri would probably have preferred to deny him the stimulation of the gag, but it was the only thing preventing Sylvain from complaining incessantly and bothering the other patrons. 

Everybody _else_ in the lounge was getting to have fun, or at least relaxing. A Dorothea and a Bernadetta sit on a sofa, kissing, each with a Dimitri kneeling in front of them. A pile of Lions animatedly talk and drink. A frowning Hubert is taking a tour, and Sylvain can tell the frown is his intrigued one. 

And his Dimitri (not his but but but it might as well be) sits on a couch, _completely ignoring him_ , while a naked Ashe kneels at his feet and looks up adoringly. 

How dare - Sylvain pulls at his bonds, like they were somehow going to be looser now than five minutes ago. He doesn't even recognize that Ashe; probably one of those stupid happy ending kids who got to see Faerghus become something better and - 

"Look at the sad, lonely whore. Nobody wants to play with you? I suppose you don't look like very much fun." 

A Felix and, ugh, another Sylvain come around his left side. They are obviously here together, which is annoying enough, but they are also those ridiculous future versions that didn't have to live through a war and never held weapons or - he hated them both instantly. 

The Felix tilts his head. "I hope you don't look this bad when you're old." Sylvain lets off a muffled stream of expletives. _Spoiled children. See who'd laugh in a real fight._

The Sylvain laughs. "Don't worry. I've got you to keep me young. Unlike this one." His tone is mocking as he says, "Do you have any friends left or did you kill them all?" 

Sylvain growls and lunges forward, which does absolutely nothing because Dimitri would never put him in sub-par bondage. 

Well, there are two _slight_ effects. First, there's a loud rattling noise, and second, the Felix and Sylvain laugh at him. 

"Not so dangerous without your magic stick, hm?" says the Felix. Sylvain seethes as the Felix walks around behind him and starts examining the coats and scarves over his arms. 

What the hell is Dimitri doing? Is this _supposed_ to be happening? What the fuck does his back say? 

Dimitri isn't looking at him at all. He's smiling down at the Ashe, who's moved on to sucking his dick. Great. Great. Fabulous. 

"Don't mind me," says the Sylvain. "I'm just contemplating a sudden horrible vision of my future." He grins. "What's it like being someone else's cautionary tale, kingkiller?" 

Sylvain is going to catch fire from rage. He can handle any humiliation from his king, but from his own idiot younger self? Maybe he's gagged so he can't _set himself on fire_. 

"How about a distraction, since you seem so useless and sad?" The Felix is back, and he's holding up a pair of nipple clamps with a chain connecting them. 

Sylvain sighs and nods. They're not going to grant him any dignity anyway; he might as well be honest. 

The Felix grins, and it's that wicked, delighted smile Sylvain hasn't seen in years. And he says, "Beg." 

Sylvain yells, frustrated, into the gag. This sort of thing is exactly why Dimitri keeps putting him into situations like this. Because there are so many situations where he won't submit or maybe can't. Maybe can't yet. 

But he'll stand here all fucking night and fall asleep from boredom before he begs _this fucking brat_ for anything. 

Sylvain pointedly turns his face away. This of course puts Dimitri and Ashe right in his line of sight, but that's fitting because it's apparently Suffering Night in the House. Dimitri has his hand in Ashe's hair and Ashe is furiously stroking his own dick. 

"Suit yourself." 

" _I'll_ take them if he won't," says the Sylvain. Fucking slut. 

"Tch. Slut." Out of the corner of his eye, Sylvain sees the Felix pushing the Sylvain's shirt up.

"Only for you, and you know it. Well, and Dimitri." The Sylvain groans as his stupid fucking boyfriend applies the clamps. "Oh, these are really nice. Come on, Felix. Let's stop wasting time here and go find our Dimitri." 

Once they finally leave, Sylvain hangs his head and tries to find something quiet to think about instead of how frustrated and bored he is. He knows he can be bad. He knows sometimes he has to be punished so he can think about how to be good. Or just to contemplate what it means to serve his king, how it isn't about what _Sylvain_ wants. 

"I'm taking pity on you because your expression is bringing _my_ mood down." Dimitri. _Dimitri._ Sylvain drops to his knees and - ow fuck no he doesn't because he's still locked into a metal frame. Sylvain forces his body still and composes his face into something hopefully neutral enough for his king and master. 

"I suppose I'm flattered you're so desperate to service me but I've already been taken care of." Ashe is - Ashe is next to Dimitri, wearing a calm, blissful expression and a face splashed with Dimitri's come. 

"He's a prodigy. It makes me disappointed to remember how much time I have to spend on training up your subpar skills." Sylvain whines. He can do better. Please. 

"But at any rate, this wasn't supposed to leave you." Dimitri holds up the nipple clamps. "What did you do that they took it?" 

Oh no oh no it had been a test he was supposed to beg and now he'd fucked up and - Sylvain started struggling even though there was no way he could get away. This was just going to make Dimitri angry but he couldn't explain himself he was gagged and - 

Dimitri slaps him across the face. Not hard for Dimitri, but enough to stop him. "Calm down. I'm not angry. Settle." Dimitri slaps him again. Sylvain makes a confused noise. 

"Not having a good night, hm?" Dimitri takes a clamp in each hand and puts them on both of Sylvain's nipples at the same time. It hurts enough for Sylvain to stop worrying about Dimitri's anger and just focus on the pain instead. Dimitri pulls on the chain and Sylvain groans. _Please more please it's so good._

"Ashe, you've been so perfect for me," says Dimitri, as Ashe blushes. "Please take these and give them out. No more than two a person. After that, you may go clean up." He hands Ashe a drawstring bag. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" says Ashe. He walks off into the rest of the lounge. 

Dimitri gives the chain another tug. "Tonight, being good means patience and endurance. Do you want to be good?" Sylvain nods frantically. 

Dimitri pats his chest, and Sylvain melts. "I know you do. Maybe someday you'll learn how to do it." He yanks on the chain one last time, and wanders elsewhere. Sylvain is so in love he's going to die. 

The bag contains _clothespins_ , Sylvain learns, as people come over and start exploring all the places one can attach a clothespin on the human body. 

His inner thighs appear to be the crowd favorite, but he ends up with a line on his chest and under his arms as well. Some intrepid soul (he is really not looking enough to remember at this point) attaches a few to the skin around his balls, and an absolute demon (Dorothea - he remembers this one) sticks two clothespins on his lower lip. 

The crowd also mocks him. He must hear the word "traitor" a hundred times. There's no question of _enduring_ ; he doesn't have a choice. His cock is uncomfortably hard and his thoughts are lost in a fog of shame. The only reason he's upright is that he's bound so he cannot fall. Everything hurts. Dimitri is so smart. He made Sylvain wait, bored and lonely, and now everything is so much more intense. Everything hurts _so much_ and he prays Dimitri will let Sylvain thank him properly for this later. 

At some point, after people start flicking the clothespins and he loses all sense of time, he hears Dimitri's voice again. First he feels Dimitri's hand on his hip, and then he feels the slight wetness of a lubed-up toy at his entrance. 

Then Dimitri says, "You've done a good job waiting. For now." Dimitri pushes the toy inside. Dimitri has a good understanding of the line between "hurt" and "damage" as it applies to Sylvain. It does hurt, a little, but that's what Sylvain's hoping for and he knows it'll feel better if he can make himself relax. 

Dimitri pushes again and oh it was _not_ all the way inside. Sylvain had anticipated some sort of plug but the whatever is more cock-sized. 

"This is the last time I'm going to touch you tonight, Sylvain. But it's not the last time you're going to be touched. Everyone out there is waiting for my signal so they can use you properly. And they're going to tell me how they liked you and I'm going to use that to decide what we do next time you come to see me. Won't that be fun? Wondering if you did a good job? If you did a good enough job?" 

The toy starts moving - it's a vibrator. Sylvain moans. He can be good. Dimitri's giving him a chance to show he can be good. 

"How many times do you think you can come tonight, Sylvain? Do you think it will be a lot?" The toy speeds up. Oh he needs this. "Or do you think you'll come once and not again, and they'll just keep fucking you until you're an overstimulated puddle on the floor?" Sylvain begs to be touched, not that his words are comprehensible. 

Dimitri circles around to Sylvain's front, and Sylvain hopes the adoration he feels is showing in his eyes. Dimitri hangs something that must be the control for the vibrator on the chain between his nipples. Mmm. 

"In case anyone else wants to play with the settings." 

Dimitri puts his hands on Sylvain's cheeks. Sylvain sighs at the touch. 

"Make me proud, pet." Then Dimitri pats him on the head and leaves. 

Sylvain worships his king. He truly does.

#

_A handwritten sign stuck to Sylvain's back:_

Public "Black Eagle" Sylvain - no extra charge of course .)

1.) Please use him as a coat rack. Do not cover his face or the instructions. Do not tell him these instructions. 

2.) Please do not otherwise touch him or interact with him before 20:00. 

3.) After 20:00, please feel free to insult him. He likes being called a traitor and a whore. Do not touch.

4.) After 20:15, please put the nipple clamps on him. The blue leather coat contains supplies in the pockets.

5.) After 20:30, use the clothespins. No more than two per person, please. If there are no more left, he has enough on him. You may otherwise touch him but do not let him get off. 

6.) After 20:45, please insert the vibrator and turn it on, or find me so I can do it. Again, there is lube in the blue coat. Hang the remote on the chain between the nipple clamps in case others want to play with the settings.

7.) After 21:00, feel free to fuck him. If you'd like him repositioned, come find me. 

\- Dimitri (tempest-92-rainbow-up-corona)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dimiclaude a/b/o-but-weirder should be up this weekend. (After that is Felix masochism and then probably Dimitri/Flayn?)


	6. Claude, a/b/o, omega Claude, induced presentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man walks into an interdimensional palace of sex and says, "Surprise me." 
> 
> Dimitri/Claude, alpha!dimitri and omega!claude, Claude is a "normal" person and is magically turned into an omega for the night.

For Claude, the door is always there, and it's always in the room where he sleeps. It's just a matter of finding it. 

As far as Claude can tell, the ease of finding the door is dependent on his mood. This doesn't make any sense, but neither does the idea of a magical buiding that exists outside of time where you can have arbitrary sexual experiences as long as they somehow involve the King of Fódlan. Claude has had to let some mysteries go as he gets older. 

(This is something of a lie. He's still going to get to the bottom of the mysteries of the House at Red Candle's Light, but he can't let it consume his every waking moment.) 

Anyway, the door - frequently it's hidden by some sort of mechanism he has to discover, or too small for a human to fit through under normal circumstances, or at an odd angle, or in the ceiling or - it's work. It's how much he wants to work for it and how much he's feeling like a challenge. 

So when Claude walks into his room and the door is just _there_ next to his closet door, full sized and impossible to miss, it means one of two things. Either he's desperate for a break, or the House is desperate for his brand of payment. Based on his mood, it's probably the former.

#

Lorenz is behind the desk. "Good evening, Claude. Are you here for your usual?" This is a joke. Claude has never asked for the same thing twice. Lorenz _joking_ is new. It's pleasant to think that this Lorenz might finally be relaxing around him. He and Lorenz-back-home had become good friends in the years since the war's end, and it had been disconcerting to learn that this Lorenz had no such option for reconciliation.

"I think I need to look at a catalogue today. I don't care which one." Lorenz ducks down and returns with a book full of glossy pictures and lavish descriptions. This one is organized by Dimitri rather than by scenario, and covers alternate backgrounds - commoner Dimitri, merry bandit king Dimitri, retainer-to-prince-Dedue Dimitri, secret Almyran prince Dimitri (who knows how that one works?) 

"Payment, before I forget," says Claude, putting down a rolled-up and sealed paper. It is, as always, a writ allowing them to take food from the royal stock. In the next week they'll send a runner to collect several wagons of fruit and vegetables, mostly fruit, mostly things considered "exotic" to the House. Mostly things exotic to Almyra as well - imports from Terasha or Nii via Morfis. Keeping them supplied has caused some sort of palace rumor that he's bathing in fruit juice, but people can think what they want. 

Claude sighs and rubs at his eyes. The pictures are all lovely, but nothing calls out to him. He has no idea what he wants, except to not have to - 

"Lorenz," he says, "if I say I don't want to have to think tonight, and I feel like bottoming, but otherwise surprise me, is that something the House can handle?" 

Lorenz raises an eyebrow. It's pierced, and Claude loves both that his Lorenz would _never_ and that clearly on some level his Lorenz _could_."Of course, Claude. The House prides itself on knowing its clientele. Give us a few minutes. Do you need to update your profile?" 

"No, I'm fine. I'm going to go sit." He takes the catalogue and flops down on one of the waiting room couches. Maybe he can make a preference list of Dimis for next time. 

Lorenz disappears into some back area but returns a few minutes later. "Two questions, Claude. One, how do you feel about body modification? Two, how long can you be here for? The plan which we think will best meet your needs requires about an hour of preparation."

Claude sits up. "As long as you can return me to normal and back home by morning, I'm up for it." They can definitely return him by morning. Claude _thinks_ time is linear here but it certainly doesn't seem to be flat. The first time Claude visited, it was from a vacation at the spring retreat house. When he returned (from a simple tour and no other services), three days had passed and everyone in the home had been slain, including ten members of his personal battalion. The house had kept him until the assassins had given up on finding him and left. 

It's why he trusts the House enough to say something so ludicrous as, "Surprise me." 

Lorenz nods. "I will fetch you an escort."

#

"This is not any kind of body modification I'm familiar with," says Claude. He's sitting on an exam table while Lysithea - the one in form-fitting grey and purple he thinks of as the Star Witch - positions seven (eight?) mirrors around him.

Lysithea stops fiddling with a tiny hand mirror on a stand and puts her hands on her hips. "Claude, how about today we skip the step where I try to explain things you cannot possibly understand with your society's tech level, and instead I just go straight to giving you a vaguely accurate metaphor?" 

"But Lysithea!" he says, deliberately whining a little. "You know how much I like learning things!" 

She rattles off three sentences in which the only words he understands are "and" and "the" before he holds up a hand and says, "All right, all right, you win." 

She folds her arms and raises an eyebrow at him. "Uh, and ... I'm sorry and you were right?" She nods.

"The metaphor is that the mirrors are going to help me convince your soul that it belongs to another shard, and that will give us something to hang the modifications on."

"So you're pushing me into another setting." Claude grinned. "Are you turning me into a merman? I could go for a swim." 

Lysithea doesn't look up from her adjustments, but he sees her roll her eyes. "No, we are - I was told you wanted to be surprised." 

"Well, sure, but now I want to figure it out."

"Never change, Claude. We are ready to go, I think. You are going to see a lot of light, and it is going to hurt, but it'll be brief." 

She doesn't even wait for him to say "Ok." She flips a switch on the wall. Colored lights turn on in the ceiling. Beams bounce off the mirrors and into him and - ow ow she was not kidding spots of pain flash and sizzle on his skin and - then it's done. 

"How do you feel?" asks Lysithea. 

"Mildly annoyed but otherwise fine." 

"That's good; you shouldn't feel anything yet. Your next stop is the Apothecary." 

"Ok." Claude gets down from the table. He wishes he'd realized "an hour of prep" meant prepping _him_ and not an hour reading in the waiting area.

#

"What do you smell?" An Academy-age Dimitri holds out the tray of clear bottles again. He's one of three indistinguishable Dimis who've been fussing over him for the last half hour. They've had him apply several different kinds of lotion, and they keep making him drink things. He hasn't had to relieve himself yet, but he's sure he's going to need to soon. It's been a lot of liquid.

They've also had him undress, and now he's laying on his front on a padded table that's significantly more comfortable than Lysithea's was. One of them had massaged his back and neck (rubbing in yet more lotion.) That Dimitri is now opening him up much more slowly then he needs, and is also using what feels like an astonishing quantity of lube. But Claude's happy to accept it since he can just relax. 

Except for this - they keep checking his senses, which is _really_ making him curious. 

Claude sniffs at the first bottle. "Lemon. Sesame oil. A horse after a hard run. Burnt bread. Some kind of flower I don't recognize."

That was fun. Earlier it had smelled like "lemon." Some kind of animal transformation. Maybe - 

"Are you turning me into a werewolf? I could go for mauling someone tonight." The Dimitri with the tray looks alarmed. 

"I'm going to suggest that at the next staff meeting. Maybe we can have you take down people who are behind in their tabs," says the third Dimitri, who is mixing yet another drink of some kind. Or maybe it's supposed to go on Claude's skin. Who knows at this point? Maybe he's supposed to become One With the Liquid.

"Oh, wait. You're turning me into a slime monster, aren't you? I'm all in. I can't wait to envelop somebody." Tray Dimitri rolls his eyes, but fondly. 

Although if he's just going to ooze his way around, then he probably doesn't need opening up, per-se. Claude pushes back against Massage Dimitri's hand. 

Claude turns his head to face him. "Hey, I'm enjoying not having to do any of the work, but you really can use more than two f-" Massage Dimitri pulls out his hand and waves four shining fingers. 

"Good to know," he says, with the faintest smile. 

Claude is thinking of an _incredibly_ clever comeback when Stop-Making-Me-Drinks Dimitri forces a cup into his hands and says, "This is the last one." 

Claude sighs and gulps it, because protesting is useless if he wants the... whatever... to work, and because he's ready to be done and into a bedroom. It tastes horny, which he would not typically identify as a flavor. But no, that's right. It's also got a bunch of herbal flavors and... iron? It burns going down. But it tastes like if lust were a beverage. 

He can smell the bottles on the tray from two feet away, now. And he realizes that while he was technically right about what was in them, his answers have been useless. 

He points. "Sorrow at a death. An exhausted friend who needs comfort. And _anger._ " 

Now he knows what they've done to him. He's read about it in the library, even if he's never met someone from one of those worlds. 

"I didn't think you could induce this sort of thing." 

Tray Dimitri says, "It's new. You're one of the first clients to try it now that it's out of testing. Do not be concerned. Byleth themself tried it before approving it."

Claude nods, because if he says "Tell me _morrrrrrrrre_ ," like he wants to they won't. And... because the burning feeling has left his throat and moved into the rest of his body. Is he supposed to be hot?

"Am I supposed to be hot?" he asks. 

"Time to get you to your room," says one of the Dimitris, but Claude's closed his eyes and can't tell which one.

#

They wrap him in a robe and they lead him out of the room, but he makes it all of ten steps before he's useless and one of them scoops him up and carries him. Claude doesn't beg, because it takes a lot more than being high out of his mind on fuck hormones to do that. He does _gently try to convince them_ that they don't need to go all the way to a room. They could just stop right here and give him what he needs.

They refuse, politely. It won't help, they explain. He needs an 'alpha,' and it would be cruel of them to do anything other than get him to his room as quickly as possible so he can settle down for his acutal Dimitri. (His Dimitri for the night, that is. His Dimitri isn't his at all, happily married and home in Fhirdiad and absolutely never going to notice Claude's cleverly suppressed feelings.) 

Claude cannot possibly wait however long it will be till _his room_. He is ready _now_ , his thighs are wet with the evidence of his need and do they not understand that he is a king? They are unmoved. They are also unconvinced by his perfectly reasonable argument that two of them could take him at once, and that would be big enough, surely, to satisfy him. 

The room is close, even though it feels like a lifetime, and he burrows into the pile of blankets and pillows the second they drop him on the bed. He's on fire and sweating and he is _never_ asking for a surprise again. 

They are trying to talk to him but he's too busy dying of want. They were right anyway. They couldn't be what he needs. They smell wrong, because they don't smell like anything but people. The room is comfort and safety, the pillows offer some minimal protection from the outside, but he's alone and _empty_. 

He buries his face in a pillow and breathes. His Dimitri must have slept on them. Maybe this is his room. Claude relaxes enough to stop writhing helplessly and push some of his fingers inside himself. It's not enough - it's like reading a scholarly article _about_ sex but it's better than nothing and so he keeps trying to - 

_He's here._

Claude struggles to free himself from the blankets so he can run to his Dimitri but he's tangled and he ends up with just the top half of his head peeking up over a pillow. Great. Very regal of him. 

Dimitri wears a blue and silver silk robe and a blue eyepatch, hair pulled back in that half-ponytail he so often has. He smiles like he's seeing an old friend, and he radiates calm and joy. Claude takes a deep, slow breath and can taste the restrained lust underneath. That's the secret he's here for.

"Have I kept you waiting?" Dimitri asks. 

Claude frees himself enough to sit up and extends a hand. "Not long," he says, nonchalantly. He is going to vibrate into pieces if Dimitri doesn't come fuck him into this mattress _right now_ , but he is a king and he will compose himself. 

"How are you adjusting? This is a very late presentation and they say first heat's always the worst." Dimitri drops the robe and sits on the edge of the bed. Claude wraps all four limbs around his torso and drags him down. "Ah." 

"I'm good but we can talk later." This experience has temporarily turned Claude into literally a different person and he needs to think about that later. "I think you know what I need, and I'm more than ready for it." 

Dimitri gently peels Claude's arms off of him and maneuvers him around to sit in Dimitri's lap. (But not _on_ his dick which is what Claude _needs_ -) "Shhh. I'll take care of you, but don't rush yourself. We have all night. Breathe."

Dimitri tucks Claude's face into his neck and Claude inhales. The scent of Dimitri's calm fills his lungs and he relaxes slightly. Claude rubs his face into Dimitri's neck, or tries to. 

"Why are you wearing a collar?" asks Claude. It's a thick, leather band and it's locked in the back, but there's no ring to attach a leash or anything. 

"To give you something to chew on besides me." Hm. Claude does have a vague sense that biting Dimitri would be even more fulfilling than smelling him. 

Dimitri twists one of his hands in Claude's hair and leans his head back. He's not rough, but Claude has no hope of resisting his strength and Dimitri knows it. Dimitri kisses Claude's neck, then bites him, tiny little nibbles that won't cause damage but feel absolutely divine to Claude. 

"You're so eager. You don't know how good your need smells, do you?" 

Claude reaches his hands down so he can feel Dimitri's dick, because Dimitri can try to tease him but _he's_ not going to wait. It's not as big as he expected, but maybe that's for the best. The stories he'd read strain the bounds of anatomical plausibility. 

Dimitri takes both of Claude's wrists in one hand and pushes him into the bed, arms held above his head. "Hands down. You are _mine_ tonight and my omega listens to me."

"But -" Dimitri's scent _changes_ and Claude feels an overwhelming sense of possessiveness. He'll do what he's told, though he's still dying to be touched. 

(How does he exist in a world with this kind of reproduction? Where people can just order him to do things and he follows? Perhaps he destroys his sense of smell. No, there must be some way to suppress the effect.) 

"I can see how wet you are. I can smell your desperation. I know how much your body needs to be filled." Dimitri circles a fingertip around Claude's slick hole. (Claude should be falling over laughing at the ridiculousness of this image, but he's already laying down and his mind is really not working at capacity at the moment.) 

Claude doesn't beg. "You know, this is lovely but I have some suggestions if you're -" 

Dimitri shoves four fingers inside of him and Claude drops his head back and pants.(Although _shoves_ implies pushing past resistance, so perhaps it's an inaccurate descriptor.) 

Dimitri leans into Claude's neck again, and says in between rough, biting kisses: "I am _your alpha_ , as I have always been. You have been an omega for two hours and do not get to set _my_ pace." 

Claude bucks his hips. Dimitri has found the right place inside of him and between that and the heavy, blanketing scent of Dimitri, he can barely think. 

"My job is to take care of you, to make sure you're knotted well, and sated, and safe, and _your_ job is to trust me enough to let me do it." The scent of Dimitri's lust has risen from a tiny undercurrent. Now it's at the front of Claude's nose, over the calm and a new sense of protection. 

"I understand that trust doesn't come to you easily. But I want you to try. How do you feel?" 

Claude takes a deep breath. "I'm ok. I'm fine." 

Dimitri bites him on the shoulder and he cries out. "I can smell how you feel, Claude." 

Claude struggles briefly, but Dimitri's got him captive on both ends, and his _I am going to protect you_ smell is so strong. "Ok. All right. I'm nervous. You must know that. But I'm also desperate for you to be inside me. _Not_ your fingers. You smell like - you feel like you belong with me. And I want that even if I don't like letting someone else direct things." 

Dimitri smiles like he's _so_ happy to hear this, and lets go of Claude's wrists. He pulls his fingers out of Claude (leaving him an aching, hollow void that will never be filled again), and strokes his dick to wet it. Oh, he... wasn't fully hard before. That's good because it feels like nothing could possibly be big enough for Claude at the moment. 

"Get on your hands and knees," he says, and Claude feels relief so strong Dimitri must be able to feel it too. He kneels, ready and open, slick trickling down his thighs. 

Dimitri pushes in slowly, and he definitely doesn't need to but Claude savors it anyway. He knows immediately that this is what he needed, a bone-deep sense of satisfaction he was never going to get from anybody's hands. He needed the... he struggles for the word. The one who completes him? His mate? 

"How do you feel?" Dimitri asks again. There's amusement in his voice, but his scent is possessiveness and lust. 

Claude moans quietly, because it's too hard to talk now. 

"I'll take care of you," Dimitri says, and starts fucking him. 

Claude has slept with thirteen different Dimitris now, and he's always a bit surprised by how strong they are. This Dimitri is immediately rough, with long thrusts that shake him, and Claude _loves it_. He grabs a pillow so he has something to bite and moan into. 

Dimitri puts his hands on the backs of Claude's knees and lifts his legs so Claude's only supported by his elbows and Dimitri's hold on him. Then Dimitri, instead of moving his own body, pulls Claude into him. "Mine," he says. 

Claude is trying so hard not to make embarrassing noises, but he says something like, "Uhhhhhnnn," before he can shove his face back into the pillow. 

"I want to hear you, Claude. Do you like it?" The way Dimitri is manhandling him is _incredible_. He's moving him like he weighs nothing. 

"Mmph, yes," he says, into the pillow. 

"Oh, I don't think that will do," says Dimitri. He drops Claude. Then he takes Claude's arms, pulls them behind him, and lifts Claude's face and upper body off the bed. Claude squirms, panic starting to bloom. 

"Calm down. I have you." Claude's on his knees, still stuffed with Dimitri's cock, but he feels like he's going to fall. He can't fall. Dimitri couldn't possibly drop him. Breathe. Breathe. Safety, comfort. Dimitri has him. Dimitri has him. Dimitri's going to fill him. 

"There we go. Let me hear you." Dimitri can't thrust as hard or as deeply from this position, but he's still so darn big. It's such a good, satisfying stretch. Dimitri does in fact _have him_ and there's no way he can keep silent. 

"Yes, just like that," Dimitri says, as Claude's closed-mouth whines break into an open moan. "I want to know I'm pleasing you." 

"Yes yes please, please," Claude says, composure gone. 

"Please what?" Claude can barely hear his words through the pleasure and the overwhelming scent of desire. 

"Harder, please. It was harder before. I need you. I want to come." 

"And you'll keep your head up so I can hear how I make you feel?" 

"Yes. _Yes, please._ Just - more, please." 

Dimitri releases Claude's arms, holds Claude's hips in a grip that is going to leave delicious bruises, and pounds him. Claude would be horribly ashamed at the broken moaning noises coming out of him under normal circumstances, but all he can do now is shudder and wail. He is going to cry from the intensity. 

"-'s so good it's _so_ good - aaaaaahhhhh please please please _unh_ please -" 

"Do you want -" and Dimitri is panting now too, "- to be facing ... toward or away from me ... when I knot you?" 

"... what? I... what?" Those are all the words Claude can muster before he's back to helpless moaning. 

"Don't worry ... about it. I should have asked earlier ... I've got you." 

Dimitri is stretching Claude's rim, and that is a little point of surprise in his mind, because nothing has felt like a stretch so what is going on? But it's good - it already feels right to be spread out like this. Dimitri has stopped thrusting and is just rocking but that's right too. Dimitri's telling him how good he's doing and how happy he is to be Claude's alpha and all Claude wants is to be really and truly filled and safe on - on Dimitri's knot. That's what this is. 

Claude feels Dimitri push back inside, all the way. Claude's stretched body clenches as much as possible around Dimitri's girth and it's so, _so_ good. 

Dimitri groans. He leans forward, wraps an arm around Claude's chest, and comes. Dimitri's cum is somehow even hotter than their bodies and Claude can feel it gushing inside of him. It feels like a _lot_ , too much, improbably too much, but it also feels deeply right and satisfying. 

Dimitri's climax pushes Claude over the edge as well, and Dimitri holds them together as Claude shudders with orgasm. He bucks his hips wildly but he's trapped on Dimitri's knot. This just makes everything more intense, and when he finally comes down, his throat hurts from screaming. 

Dimitri takes one of Claude's hands in his own. "How do you feel?" 

"Will you accept it if I just say 'unh'?"

Dimitri chuckles. "Yes, I suppose so." 

Claude basks in Dimitri's warmth and the smell of his satisfaction for a minute, then tries to get up. Which he cannot do. "Oh." 

"We will be here for a while," says Dimitri. "But please keep struggling. It feels very nice." 

Claude wiggles his hips. "It does." He thinks. "You're really like this, right? You're naturally an alpha?" 

"Yes. Born this way, presented at eighteen, which is late, but - well, you know my trauma." 

Claude nods. "If you know, um, why knots? To force people to cuddle? I don't mind it but it's outside my experience." 

Dimitri hums. "I don't know that there's a _reason_ for something natural. But -" Dimitri rubs Claude's belly, "- it keeps my cum inside you and makes breeding more likely to work - _don't panic_ you will not get pregnant. You'll revert to your normal state within twelve hours." 

"Ok ... ok ... good." Oof that was a lot of adrenaline very suddenly. 

"Also, I am not finished. My body is resting between waves, but I am likely to come at least three more times." 

Claude considers how much cum _already_ seems to be inside him. This is going to be weird. "Is that why I'm still inexplicably hard?" 

"It's not inexplicable at all." Dimitri slides a hand down and holds Claude's dick in a loose grip. "You won't go down until after I'm out." Dimitri kisses Claude's neck, breathes in his scent again. "But that's good. It wouldn't be any fun for you if you were just stuck here bored while I filled you up." 

Dimitri starts stroking Claude, and rocking his hips. "But this way we both enjoy ourselves." Claude answers with a moan.

#

"And heats can last for up to a week, even with an alpha?" asks Claude, after that wave finishes. He is definitely full of cum, which is weird even if emotionally he feels like he would after a satisfying meal. "I don't understand how your world works."

Dimitri sighs. "Apparently it mostly doesn't. Omega shards are fragile and prone to splintering. They say they're out on the edge of the mirror, near the frame." 

"There's a frame?" That's new. Dimitri frowns at him. 

"Oh come on," Claude says. "Just add it to my bill." Byleth has apparently given up on trying to keep secrets Claude (any of them) and just charges them extra as they learn things they're not supposed to know. It's not as much of a deterrent as Byleth might hope, since Claude usually has access to an entire nation's economy. 

Dimitri keeps frowning. "All right, all right. You've got me. I'll change the subject." Claude sighs. "Do you get a lot of people wanting to play omega for a day?" 

"It's a pretty new development, although I am the delta specialist, so I'm used to people like you."

"What's a delta? Someone who presents super late?" 

"No, it's someone from a world with no presentation. By alpha standards I am relatively poorly-endowed, so I'm popular with people seeking a certain kind of exotic experience." 

Claude twists around as much as possible so he can properly give Dimitri an incredulous look. "How? I was literally magically altered and you are stretching me. How?" 

Dimitri shrugs. "Some of your friends are size queens." 

"Ok, ok. Let me guess. Ashe and Felix." 

"That's not a particularly challenging guess, but yes, sometimes. I get a couple of Caspars. There's a Claude/Lorenz couple that comes to visit. And one Dorothea." There's a happy sigh at that name. 

Claude decides to take a risk because that's where the rewards are. "Do you get a lot of Dedues?" 

Dimitri's voice is calm when he says, "No," but Claude catches the way he pauses first. 

"Don't you think it's a little strange that there are never any Dedues here?" 

"It's not true that there are never any Dedues here." 

"Really? It's just that I've never seen any, so I was wondering how they enter and what they do here." 

Danger. Interesting. That's the first new scent he's smelled. "Claude, there are some secrets not even a king can afford." 

Claude shakes his arms. "You can't say something like that to me! Now I'm even more curious!" 

"And you can keep being curious, but you shall not get anything further out of _me_." 

All right. Another time then, with another Dimitri. Although - Claude takes a deep breath, then speaks slowly. "Normally I don't do the same thing twice here. I never have, honestly. But if I ever change my mind, would you mind telling me your id number?" 

Dimitri laughs into the back of Claude's neck. "My number is 385. The full code address is hunted-385-grassland-alpha-overview-delta, but you can just ask for the delta specialist and they'll know who you mean." 

Dimitri nuzzles Claude's neck again. "Ready for more?" The smell of lust spikes again and Claude flips from "more?!" to "yes" before he can even open his mouth. 

"How much longer, do you think?" 

Dimitri hums. "Ten more minutes?" 

"Your world's crazy." 

"But do you _like it_?" Dimitri asks, as his hand finds Claude's dick again. 

"Yes. Fuck yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to life circumstances, I only expect to post one more chapter this week and it will probably be over the weekend.


	7. Sylvain, omorashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain does some chores for Dimitri. Dimitri makes him drink a suspicious amount of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has: Sylvain in a maid outfit and a cock cage, doing chores while also in bondage. There's a bit of degradation from the way Dimitri talks to him. Also Dimitri makes him drink a bunch of liquid and then won't let him go to the bathroom. He eventually wets himself. 
> 
> Yes this is the same Dimitri/Sylvain as the other two Sylvain chapters. 
> 
> Also for some reason I wrote this one chapter in past tense.

One of the things that Dimitri enjoyed doing to Sylvain was making him perform mundane chores. This was fine by Sylvain. He was physically fit, and it was relaxing in a way to do the sort of common tasks he had servants for back home. And Dimitri always had some twist to make things exciting. 

Tonight started with a maid outfit - well, something vaguely in the universe of a maid outfit. Dimitri dressed him in a frilly blue skirt that barely covered Sylvain's ass. (No underwear, but that went without saying.) He added a top with puffy short sleeves, cut off so it exposed Sylvain's belly button. He finished with a lacy headband and an apron tied around his waist. 

"Very pretty," said Dimitri. 

"Yes, sir," said Sylvain, looking down. 

"Hm. Stay there." Dimitri searched one of the dresser drawers. "Ah." He returned with a handful of metal. "I don't want you ruining the way the outfit lies. Since your self-control is never up to standard..." 

The prospect of that level of control thrilled Sylvain, but had eluded him so far. Dimitri could order him to become erect and have it take effect immediately, but commanding him to _stop_ being erect usually had the opposite effect. Coming on command was a mixed bag, but what a thrill when it worked. 

"Uh!" Dimitri slapped Sylvain across the face. He held Sylvain's chin so Sylvain had to meet his gaze. 

"What did I just say?" 

"I... I don't know, sir," Sylvain said. He fought to keep his face still. 

After a moment, Dimitri let go of Sylvain's chin. "I'm glad you were honest. Lift the skirt."

Sylvain picked the skirt up in both hands and watched Dimitri lock him away. Dimitri gently took Sylvain's cock and balls and pushed them through the metal ring into the cage. The metalwork looked delicate but was quite strong and had no give. Dimitri closed the cage and added a small lock. Now Sylvain was safe. The cage was snug, a bit heavy - just the way Sylvain liked it. The sensation would be in the back of his mind but it wouldn't prevent him from thinking or doing normal tasks. 

(Dimitri had sent him home in it once. Sylvain had returned a week later, and Dimitri said he was so worked up it was clearly useless as a punishment. Sylvain had yet to figure out how to earn it as a reward.) 

"Hands down." 

Dimitri smoothed down the skirt and apron, then nodded, pleased with his work. The fabric felt like silk, but Sylvain assumed it was one of the specialized textiles that future-era clients frequently paid in. 

Dimitri walked around Sylvain in a slow circle. He adjusted the headband slightly. 

"Good." He came up behind Sylvain and embraced him, one hand flat on his stomach and the other sliding up under the shirt. He pinched one of Sylvain's nipples, hard, until Sylvain started to squirm. 

"You're already starting one strike behind because you don't know how to listen, but at least you're pretty. Not that I would be upset if we made it to the end of the night and you were still caged when I fucked you. The faces you make under the circumstances amuse me quite a bit." 

Sylvain's dick was already testing the cage's unyielding geometry. He needed to distract himself. "Shall I fetch a pair of heels, sir?" 

"No," said Dimitri, going back to the chest of drawers. "You won't be able to catch yourself properly when you inevitably trip. I have plans for you tonight that don't include a bloody nose." 

"Yes, sir." 

Dimitri had Sylvain hold out his hands. He wrapped leather cuffs around both his wrists, then attached those to a spreader bar. His hands were just close enough that he could touch his face with one hand if the other arm was fully outstretched. (Having his hands bound _immediately_ made his face start itching, so this was a kindness on Dimitri's part.) 

Then Dimitri held a glass of water to Sylvain's lips. "Drink. You'll be running several errands, and I don't want you getting dehydrated." 

Sylvain was perfectly capable of holding the glass, but if Dimitri wanted that he'd have held out the glass for taking. Sylvain opened his mouth and drank as Dimitri tilted the glass up, too fast to be comfortable but not so fast as to choke him. He managed to avoid spilling, thankfully. 

"All right. Pay attention; I am only going give you these instructions once..."

#

Taking Dimitri's laundry in was relatively straightforward; he could hold the basket in both hands or on one hip. Bringing back the clean clothes and sheets was briefly held up by some sort of event in the lounge, but Dimitri had been very clear that Sylvain was not to make any unnecessary stops.

Sylvain was not well-equipped to make the bed. There was a lot of flopping about trying to get the sheet edges under the mattress. He heard Dimitri chuckle at least once, though, so at least he was being entertaining. 

Dimitri pushed another glass of water on him, and a few apple slices, and sent him to the west portrait hall kitchen to fetch tea and snacks. The thought of carrying liquid was nerve-wracking. Dimitri did sometimes give Sylvain impossible tasks when he felt like Sylvain needed a good cry, but this didn't feel like that sort of situation. If he spilled anything, it was going to be on him. 

He was legitimately sweating by the time he made it back to the room with the tray. 

Dimitri made him drink half the tea.

"Sir, I need to relieve myself," Sylvain said. Dimitri had made him drink a fair amount of water already. The tea was going to make him float away.

"You can hold it," said Dimitri. "What you need to be doing now is calming down. I don't like how worked up you seemed when you returned. Kneel, so I can keep an eye on you so you don't hurt yourself." 

While Sylvain drank his tea, Dimitri asked him a variety of questions about his outside life, about Faerghus and Empire politics. Sylvain answered with a downturned gaze and sentences ending in "sir." Sylvain could hear the smile in Dimitri's voice when he told Sylvain he was being _very_ obedient today. Sylvain shivered in pleasure. 

Dimitri held the teacup to Sylvain's lips. "Drink, my lovely bloodstained whore," he said, and Sylvain drank like he was dying of thirst.

#

Dimitri had one last chore for Sylvain. He put down a bucket of soapy water and a washcloth.

"Scrub the floor." 

Without a mop, Sylvain had no choice but to get down on his hands and knees. This sort of cleaning was usually good, mindless work, but Sylvain had progressed from _Hm, I need to pee,_ to _Ow ow ow._

He opened his mouth to ask Dimitri again-

"Did I tell you to display yourself or to scrub the floor?" he heard Dimitri say. Sylvain tried to pull the skirt down but it was futile. 

"Are you that desperate to be fucked?" 

"No, sir. I'm sorry, sir." 

"Then be silent and clean the floor."

Shit. Sylvain pressed his thighs together. It was probably for the best he was bent over. His bladder was a huge distraction. Funny how normally, it was trying to keep his dick down before the cage did it for him. 

He awkwardly sloshed some water on the floor. Yep, sure was a lot of liquid everywhere. Especially inside Sylvain. Tragically _inside_ Sylvain. If Dimitri made him drink anything else he was going to cry. 

Sylvain crunched himself over further. Ow. Ok, ok. Sylvain took a deep breath. Kneeling here trying not to think about his stretched, uncomfortable bladder was just making him think about his stretched, uncomfortable bladder. How quickly could he clean the floor? Dimitri said this would be his last task. 

He scrubbed furiously, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. He bounced his hips, trying to ease his discomfort or at least provide another sensation. He gritted his teeth. 

Dimitri's feet came into view. "Is this task really too complicated for you?" 

Sylvain kept his head down. "I'm sorry, sir. I really need to pee, sir." 

Dimitri gave an exaggerated sigh. "You truly are trapped by your baser instincts. I suppose you can clean your own mess while you clean the floor. Very well." 

"I - what?" Was this a joke or a punishment? "I mean, sir, I, I need to use the restroom." 

"My restroom? No, absolutely not. If you can't wait to finish a simple cleaning task then you can piss on the floor like an animal." 

It was a pity the tears forming in Sylvain's eyes wouldn't actually do anything about his problem. "I'll try to hold it, sir." He swept the washcloth around the floor again. He was going to need to move to another part of the floor but that meant moving his whole lower body. Goddess, it was hard to think. 

Dimitri grabbed the bar connecting Sylvain's hands, lifted it, and dragged Sylvain to the edge of the room. Sylvain screamed a frantic apology. He backed Sylvain into the wall, holding the bar high enough that his arms were over his head. 

He couldn't hunch over at all like this, and the stretch on his bladder _hurt_. 

"Sylvain," said Dimitri, " _look at me_." 

Sylvain picked up his tear-stained face and looked. There was a softness in Dimitri's face he wasn't expecting. 

"Who owns you?" 

Trick question? Was the answer no one or - ? "You, sir, I hope."

Dimitri nodded. "And my job is to take care of you, and to know what you need." Dimitri gently rubbed his free hand over Sylvain's belly. He still desperately needed to pee but Dimitri took his mind off of it a little. 

"I know that outside these walls, you work extremely hard to improve the world and the lives of the people around you. And you will always harbor guilt the same way I will harbor anger. But as much as it hurts to say it, you and I both know that if you'd stayed with the Lions you'd have died."

Sylvain choked back a sob and dropped his head. 

"No! Look at me. I want you to listen to me. I know how lonely you feel out there. But you aren't alone. The door is always open to you, and I will be here, and I will take care of you."

Dimitri slipped his hand under Sylvain's skirt, placed his palm directly over Sylvain's bladder, and pushed. "You need to let go." 

Dimitri's firm touch gave Sylvain no choice. He let go. Urine poured from him, splashing his legs and feet. Sylvain was momentarily too relieved to feel disgusted. His knees buckled, but Dimitri caught him around the waist. 

"Good boy," Dimitri murmured. Sylvain sighed. Oh thank the Goddess and Dimitri that had been so fucking unpleasant and now... ok this smelled terrible and he was standing in a puddle of pee. 

"Better?" Sylvain nodded. "I'm going to untie your arms. Go get some towels and more water and clean this, and then take a bath. I... think I am going to change. When you're done, I have a present for you."

#

Later, all cleaned up, Sylvain knelt at Dimitri's feet as he sat in the big armchair by the fireplace. Dimitri gave him a small box wrapped in brightly patterned paper.

"The rules haven't changed, Sylvain," Dimitri said, as Sylvain opened the box. "You cannot live here and I cannot leave. But the door is always opened to you. And I am going to ask Byleth to take me off the register. I think they'll agree I've earned it after all these years." 

Sylvain stared down at the open box, then up at Dimitri. "This is real?" He started to cry again. 

Dimitri wiped the tears from his eyes. "Yes, love. My precious pet." 

The collar was brown leather, sturdy but soft to the touch. The back side of the tag read, "If lost return to" and Dimitri's identifier. 

The front read, simply, "Killer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may lower the number of chapters on this specifically because I have a thought that would go with monsterfucking weekend and I'd want to pull it out into a separate fic. If I do that, you can look for other fics with the "the dimitri brothel" tag.


	8. Felix, spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dimitri wins a chance to do what _he_ wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri's perspective, Felix spanking Dimitri. The Dimitri in this chapter is trans but it barely comes up. I used "dick" to refer to his bits a couple of times. 
> 
> Also this chapter ended up being a bit of a downer. :/ (He'll be fine; I promise.)

_A long time ago..._

Dimitri blinked up at the lance-point inches above his left eye. He knew there were other lances close or already piercing him, but he couldn't feel pain anymore. Was this death then - trapped forever at your final moment of failure? 

There was a blur at the edge of his vision. A voice said, "Do you want to die?" 

"It's what I deserve. In the end I couldn't avenge anyone." 

Byleth. It was Professor Byleth's voice. "That's not what I asked."

Dimitri thought about many things, and in the end surprised himself by saying, "No."

~~~

Dimitri tucked some of Felix's hair behind his ears. He seemed at last to be sleeping soundly, breathing slow and steady.

Dimitri unbuckled the gag and gently eased it out of Felix's mouth. This Felix insisted on sleeping bound, which meant Dimitri was stuck here for an unpredictable amount of time monitoring his breathing. But at least he did, eventually, sleep. 

Dimitri unclipped the wrist cuffs from each other as well. He'd still have the weight on his wrists, but he'd be able to move about if he woke. 

Dimitri yawned and stretched his arms up. This was his last client for the day but he was lucky enough to be receiving a visitor and he didn't want to fall asleep and lose his spot. There were enough people eager enough for his attention and - 

There was a knock at the door, but before Dimitri could say anything, it opened. A second Felix stood in the doorway. His visitor. 

"Oh, hello. You're early," said Dimitri. 

Felix shook his head. "No, you're late. I've been waiting for half an hour." He entered the room and looked at the sleeping Felix. He lifted the blanket slightly and took in his bandaged back. "Another lost mercenary come seeking punishment for his sins?" 

"Mm, something like that." Exactly like that. The vast majority of his work was beating Lions who felt _sorry_ for abandoning their Prince, who wanted to hurt on the outside and not just the inside. When he was feeling truly wretched he'd speak kindly, tell them he forgave them so he could watch their ugly, broken sobbing. 

It was impossible for him to truly identify, since all of his classmates had stayed by his side. And they'd all died anyway. Except Dedue, he thought. Dedue had hopefully survived to fulfill his destiny and help the Alliance. 

"Do you have another room, or is someone coming to collect him?" asked the awake Felix. "Or is this some sort of self-cuckholding thing and we're going to fuck in front of him?" 

"I- no." Suddenly Dimitri wished someone _would_ ask for that. "He'll sleep till morning. We can go to the next room." 

Dimitri climbed out of the bed and led Felix to the adjacent room, which was more or less identical. He hesitated briefly, not entirely sure what to say, then settled on, "Thank you for coming." 

This Felix was highly unusual. Tricked into temporary service to the House, he had inexplicably returned after his time was over and worked something out with Byleth where he just... came back sometimes. 

He was a Duke Fraldarius, happy and secure in his life, and by rumor (probably true, based on the black band around one finger) _married_ to the king himself. And yet he came here. He was a mystery. His time was highly prized; Dimitri had won a lottery to earn the visit. 

Felix shrugged. "Don't act like I'm doing it out of the generosity of my heart. I'm here for sex too. What do you want?" 

Dimitri sighed and closed his eyes. _First, to be the receiver and not the asker of that question._ He opened his eyes. 

"If you're amenable, I'd like you to spank me and then make love to me." 

Felix crossed his arms and gave him a half-smile. "Do you mean you want tenderness or are you one of the Dimitris who can't say 'fuck'?"

"Nobody works here without learning to say 'fuck' and a variety of worse terms. I think I do want tenderness. I want to be hit because I want to feel it, but I don't want you to call me names or be cruel. Does that make sense?" 

Felix nodded. "Sure. Do you just want me to use my hands?" 

"I think so. I'd like to put a toy in, though. Is it all right if I undress?" 

"You don't have to look for my approval every sentence. Go get what you want." Felix started taking his clothes off and tossing them onto a chair. 

Dimitri rummaged around in the drawers. What did he feel like? A proper cock tonight, he thought. He stopped at one with the Crest of Fraldarius carved into the base. All right; why not? He grabbed it and a bottle of lube. 

"I wish you'd sell that stuff," Felix said, pointing at the lube. It was some kind of long-lasting high-quality future substance.

"Someone's already explained to you how poorly things work cross-shard, I assume?" 

Felix rolled his eyes. "Fine." 

"I'm sure many of us would love if this could be some kind of merchant-house instead of what it is." Dimitri heard Felix inhale as he stripped off his shirt. He turned to look at Felix.

"Sorry," Felix said. "I didn't know if you were Hunted or Dream-aligned." 

Dimitri touched a scar on his stomach, one of several puncture wounds from javelins and larger spears. "Dream-aligned Dimitris usually have throat injuries." 

"I'm sorry." 

"It was a long time ago, and none of us can help how we were born, besides." Dimitri returned to undressing. 

"Do you want me to put that in?" 

"No, I'd rather do it. But come kiss me, if you will." 

Dimitri sat on the bed and poured lube onto his fingers. Felix climbed next to him, turned Dimitri's face towards him, and kissed him hungrily. It felt like kissing an old familiar lover, even though they'd never met. Dimitri smiled at Felix when they eventually broke away. 

"You don't get to kiss your clients much, do you?" asked Felix. 

"Oh." Dimitri's smile fell. "No, I'm sorry if-" 

Felix stroked Dimitri's cheek. "It's not a complaint. You kiss like you're desperate to be touched." 

Dimitri looked in the direction of the other room and its sleeping occupant. "Perhaps I am. They don't come for sex." 

"Okay. Come here." Felix pulled Dimitri until his back was against Felix's chest. It was immediately comforting despite the slightly awkward angle caused by their heights. Felix kissed Dimitri's neck. "I'll be here while you stuff yourself with _is that my dick?_ " 

"Well, it's certainly a replica of _a_ Felix dick. You would be in a better position to know than I would." 

"Ridiculous. Simply ridiculous. Fine. You stuff yourself with a fake dick and later I'll show you how much better the real thing is. Ridiculous. I'm going to bite you now." Felix did bite Dimitri between the neck and shoulder, but gently. 

Dimitri circled a wet fingertip around his rim, then sighed and pushed two fingers inside. Maybe he _should_ wear a plug while he worked. 

Felix continued to kiss Dimitri's neck while he stretched himself open. His lips were warm and even being touched this much felt soothing. Felix thumbed both of Dimitri's nipples and huffed a tiny laugh at the shiver that went through Dimitri. 

"Sensitive?" 

"Mmm." 

Felix played with Dimitri's nipples, rolling and squeezing. Dimitri groaned and closed his eyes. 

Eventually he blinked and pulled his fingers out of himself, reaching for the dildo instead. He slicked it up and pressed the tip against his hole. He made a satisfied noise as his body started to stretch around it, and he pushed it in deeper. 

"I'm amused to know being a slut for having things in your ass is a universal Dimitri constant." 

"Oh, it's really not," Dimitri said, groaning again. He pushed until the flared base of the toy was against his body. So full. Just how he wanted. "Lots of us hate it. I'm just not one of them." He rocked his hips. Oh yes. 

"Can I touch you?" Felix asked, hand suddenly low on Dimitri's belly. Dimitri nodded, and Felix rubbed his hand in a slow circle around Dimitri's dick. Dimitri moaned. His arms were limp at his sides and he let Felix hold him up. 

"You are so wet. Look at you." Dimitri mumbled something affirmative in reply. Between Felix's hand and the toy in his ass, he was incredibly turned on. "You need to get fucked more. I think you should tell your clients you're going to ride them if they're good. Or bad. I don't know which one."

"Mmnh," Dimitri said. He watched Felix's hand, the fingers deftly trying to work him towards a climax, the black ring standing out against his pale skin. 

"Wait, wait. I wanted you to hit me." Dimitri struggled to sit up. Felix kept moving his hand.

"You want me to stop?"

What was wrong? Something was wrong. The ring - it was taking Dimitri out of relaxing. Who wore a wedding ring to come to a place like this? 

Dimitri put a hand on Felix's wrist, and he did stop then. Dimitri turned to face Felix, who abruptly switched his expression to one of concern. 

"You're upset. What's wrong?" 

"Who are you?" Dimitri shook his head. "You know what I'm feeling and you bring it up. You're not like any Felix I've ever met." 

Felix's cheeks started to turn red, which was at least something familiar. "I've had to learn to... " He sighed. "To talk about feelings. To make my relationship work."

Dimitri should have just let Felix fuck him and go, but now that he'd ruined it he might as well ruin it all the way. "Why do you come here if you're married? Doesn't he care? Does he know?" 

Felix scoffed. "Are you worried that I'm _cheating_? I promise you I'm not." He crossed his arms and looked at Dimitri for a long moment. "I'll explain but come lay over my lap. You're out of sorts. I'll give you something better to think about." 

Dimitri hesitantly draped himself over Felix's lap. Felix handed him a pillow to hold, then rubbed a hand up and down his back. 

"You are the most tense Dimitri I have ever encountered who wasn't caged and muzzled." 

"Thanks, I try," Dimitri said, ruefully. 

"Shush. I want you to relax. At least pretend you're relaxing." Felix gripped the base of the toy and jiggled it slightly. Dimitri sighed and closed his eyes. 

"It feels nice, doesn't it?" Felix rubbed Dimitri's ass and the back of his thighs. It was relaxing even if he wasn't relaxed. "It'll feel nicer when I smack it." 

"Mm," said Dimitri. Now Felix was pinching the inside of Dimitri's thighs, which he hadn't asked for, but the little bright spots of pain were great. 

"Look at you, Dimitri." Felix ran his fingers through Dimitri's hair with one hand, and pulled the toy partially out with the other. "You're already rutting against my leg like an animal." He pushed the toy back inside, and Dimitri groaned at being almost properly full again. 

"Why do they have you playing a sadist? Is it doing anything for you?" 

"I'm good at it. I - uhh -" Felix was teasing him with the toy, little movements out and in. "I'm good at inflicting precise amounts of dam- _uh!_ " 

Felix hit him, finally, right on the center of one butt cheek. Dimitri hadn't felt him let go of the toy, so maybe he switched hands. It only hurt a little, but Dimitri clung to the feeling. 

"Keep going. What were you saying?" Felix hit him again, slightly harder, on the other cheek. 

"I'm precise at hurting - uh! - people and I - mm - don't lose my temper. I - oh - I - give people - ohhh - what - ah" He squirmed and pushed his hips back as Felix struck him several times directly over the base of the toy. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Another smack, this time on a thigh. 

"Yes, thank - ah! - you." Felix was good. Dimitri felt quite warm, skin pleasantly stinging. 

Dimitri only sort of caught the next thing Felix said, because he finally _was_ relaxing (and because Felix was administering a really thorough spanking _the two things were related_ ). But he thought it was roughly: "If people are coming to you to be punished, set their punishments. Make them hit you. Tell them you're going to sit on their face and they don't get their beating until they please you enough." 

"Mm," said Dimitri, because it seemed like he should respond, but words were a bit of an advanced technique at the moment. 

Felix scratched his nails up Dimitri's thigh and he gasped. 

"Don't fall asleep on me. I promised you a story." Dimitri groaned again. 

"He knows. Of course he knows. The House put us together." Felix kept scratching Dimitri, who let out little muffled moans and tried to listen. "I'm not home now, though. I'm down in the old Bergliez territory." Another slap to Dimitri's ass. 

"And don't think he's home pining away. He lights his candle for Byleth to send him people as soon as I'm gone." Felix started tugging at the toy again. "'Eternal slut' indeed. "I came home early once and he had a Felix in each end and was jerking off a third one." 

Dimitri propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Felix. Why didn't he ever get interesting jobs? 

"What did - ah, that is to say - how did you two resolve the situation?" 

Felix roughly jerked the toy in and out of Dimitri (which made Dimitri drop back to the mattress) as he said, "I fought them all off and made sure they knew what the king sounded like when he was _properly_ fucked." 

Dimitri pondered this with what brain he had left. He was here because the alternative was death. He wasn't sure he could understand voluntarily calling in clients if you didn't have to.

"What about you?" asked Felix. He pushed the toy back in and resumed rubbing Dimitri's skin. "Were you with a Felix in your world?" 

"No. I loved my Dedue." 

He felt Felix stop moving, then: "I'm sorry. I hope he comes for you." 

Great. He'd killed the mood _twice_. "I don't - it's been too long. If he was coming to take the bargain he'd have done it by now. And... my feelings were unrequited." 

Dimitri forced some cheer into his voice. "I think he is rebuilding Duscur with Claude and Byleth's help, and he has put the war behind him and is happy." 

"I hope so." 

Dimitri pushed himself into a sitting position, and shoved Felix back onto the bed. "But now I want to stop talking and fuck. I've changed my mind about tenderness." He bit his lip and pulled the toy from his ass, then knelt over Felix. 

"You're good with your hands, Felix." Dimitri took Felix's dick in hand and lined it up with his hole. "Ahhh... show me what else you can do." 

Felix watched Dimitri sink down on his cock and let out a slow breath. "You're soaked." 

Dimitri rocked back and forth and moaned now that his ass was properly full. The trick about the model cocks was that they were proportionate but slightly smaller than the actual thing, so you'd feel a nice stretch if you actually fucked their owner. 

"I am. That was a good spanking and now I'm ready to fuck you until I can't walk." He reached out to take one of Felix's hands and bring it back to his dick. "Help me along?" 

Felix smirked and quickly had Dimitri moaning again. "I am going to make you scream my name until you're hoarse." 

(He did.)


	9. Ignatz POV, lore, background sylvix bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignatz Victor, the new artist-in-residence, takes a tour of the House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original plan for this chapter is at five thousand words and counting, so, uh, maybe that'll be an independent fic. Instead we have cameos from various characters who appeared in earlier chapters. (So, yes that's the Marianne from chapter 2 but-many-years-later, and the Claude from chapter 6, and the Lorenz who's shown up a couple of times, and the Mercedes from the dimilix fic, and the college-aged sylvix couple from chapter 5.) 
> 
> Kinks that show up this chapter: weird bondage, mild sadism, claurenz banter, and... I don't know if cum drinking is a kink but I feel like it should be warned for.

Not everybody who works at the House comes there at the point of death. There are plenty of contractors who do occasional work, or people doing temporary residencies for one thing or another. 

Ignatz Victor has just begun a six-month sabbatical at the House and is touring the facilities. He's here to make art for the House and is overjoyed at the variety of supplies he has access to. He's done enough strange jobs for other nobles that "infinite Dimitris" is... ok it's still fantastical but have you _seen_ the magic mirror you can draw on? 

Leonie came with him, but she's run off elsewhere. Probably to go train with the grizzled old soldier who manages the House's defenses and is apparently the only permanent-resident Felix. But she also said she found someone called a "sixty-three Dimitri" and needed to figure out how to earn money while she was here. They get basic room and board and a small stipend while they're here, but Dimitri time has to be paid for the same way any other customer would. 

"This is the Lounge," says Mercedes. She lives at the House and works as one of its hosts and managers. She's older, probably mid-forties. She has a deep scar down the side of her face, and she'd told Ignatz her world went _very badly_ and she didn't like to talk about it. 

"We technically have several lounges, but we generally present it to customers as though there's only one. For you, it might be a good place for inspiration. Emotionally-speaking, it's our off-hours right now, but there's almost always something going on."

There appear to be two things going on. There's a small group of people chatting at a bar along one wall. There's also a Felix and a Sylvain up on a platform, tied to each other on their hands and knees. An Annette and a Lysithea sit on a nearby couch watching them, splitting a bowl of popcorn. Annette periodically throws a piece at Felix, who growls. 

They look young, maybe from the time the Eisners were missing. 

"Can you hire non-Dimitris?" Ignatz asks.

"Technically, although it isn't common. Oh, you're asking about those two! They're in trouble. They've been harassing other patrons and agreed to accept decorative punishment instead of being banned from the House. Feel free to take a closer look; they can't move. You can do some amazing anatomical studies here."

This is deeply weird, but Ignatz is pretty sure he's going to have to get used to it. 

The Felix and Sylvain are butt-to-butt, with the backs of their thighs pressed together, Sylvain's knees outside of Felix's. Their calves and forearms are secured to the platform with leather straps, and several more straps are belted around their thighs. They're both gagged and wearing collars with metal rings on the front, but Sylvain's blindfolded and Felix is wearing nipple clamps with little weights on them. Felix's knees also seem to be up on some kind of blocks to make their bodies line up better. 

Felix watches Ignatz approach with a murderous glare. At least until Annette throws another piece of popcorn at him. He snaps his head around and growls again. 

Annette waves at Ignatz, then stands and approaches the platform. "Look at their dicks." She grins. 

Oh, uh... Ignatz walks around the platform a bit. Oh. They are tied together with a thin black cord. A glass heart-shaped charm hangs as a weight below them. 

"Isn't it lovely? Oh, I bet you can't see this bit at all. Come around here." Ignatz is definitely going to have to recalibrate his sense of aesthetics at the House. He gets closer to Annette, and she pries Sylvain and Felix slightly apart while Felix makes some sort of offended noises. 

There's something purple between them - oh no, inside them. 

"Double-ended dildo!" says Annette, excitedly. "Theoretically, they could be having an excellent time here, but Sylvain's been ordered to stay still and Felix is too stubborn to enjoy himself." Another growl from Felix. 

"Uh, well... as far as I know, that might be Felix enjoying himself," says Ignatz. 

"Oh, he wants someone to make him work for it. Not like Sylvain." She slaps Sylvain's flank. He moans and tries to lean into her hand. 

"I thought you were supposed to stay still, Sylvain!" says Mercedes. She hooks a finger into the ring on his collar and pulls him forward (which pulls Felix back slightly.) "Now, was that being still, Sylvain?" 

Sylvain shakes his head _no_ and tries to shrink back. Felix grunts and jerks backwards, shoving him, then shudders, drops his head, and pants.

Annette pats Ignatz on the shoulder. "If you touch either one of them, it takes them a good five minutes to return to position. It's very entertaining." 

"Ah... great?" 

"I think you need a reminder, Sylvain," Mercedes says. Sylvain makes a high-pitched whining noise. It breaks into a moan as Mercedes slaps him hard across the face. She slaps him a second time, and he stops shaking. 

"There we go, Sylvain. Are you feeling better?" 

Ignatz goes back to the Felix side of the tableau; he doesn't know how long it's going to be before Mercedes returns to the tour. He idly touches one of the weights attached to Felix. It's also glass, with a splash of blue inside. 

"Are these made in-House, or purchased els- aaaaah!" Felix _lunges_ at him as much as the straps allow, and Ignatz yells and jumps back. Felix nods his head and makes a satisfied huff that is abruptly choked off by Annette grabbing his collar ring and jerking his head up. 

"Are you jealous? Trying to act out so you can get slapped too? Why would we reward bad behavior? Let's see you beg, kitten." Felix struggles to pull his head away, shaking with anger. Maybe.

Ok, this was rapidly turning into an example of the, "If you put more than three Lions together, an orgy breaks out," stories that Claude liked to tell... 

"Hi, Ignatz," says Lysithea, thankfully allowing him to escape the conversation. "Annette and I are the House pilots. Let me know if you ever want to do a color study of the Void or something." 

"The... the void is the medium between shards?" Ignatz asks. There's a lot of weird vocabulary about the House that everyone else seems to just know. Maybe he should make a guide.

"Yeah." There's a slap and a muffled scream. Annette must finally be hitting Felix, but Ignatz tries very hard not to look. "It's not true nothingness, so there's a lot of random variation in how it looks. The previous Ignatz did some cool xeno art while we were travelling."

Ignatz shakes his head. "When you say 'the previous Ignatz' it sounds so ominous." 

"Well, he did get eaten by a Void monster, so - _I'm joking!_ He went home like every other Ignatz eventually does." 

A voice calls out, "Hey, Mercie! Get over here! Lorenz is going to do his party trick!" It's a Claude, standing behind the bar. Mercedes kisses Sylvain on the forehead, then lets him go. 

Lorenz mutters, "I hate you," as Mercedes and Ignatz approach. This Lorenz is interesting-looking. He's got a pierced eyebrow and is wearing a leather jacket. The bottom few inches of his hair are dyed red, although he's wearing it in the style Ignatz is familiar with. 

In addition to Lorenz, there are two Dimitris, one young and one gray-haired and older. There's also a Marianne, similarly aged. (They're holding hands.) 

"Hi!" says Claude. "You must be the new artist-in-residence. I'm king in real life; I'm just here on vacation." 

Ignatz waves. "Hello, everyone. That's true where I'm from, too. You being king, I mean. I'm from an Emerald world, apparently." 

Claude gets a faraway look in his eyes. "Are they a couple or a threesome?"

"What?" 

"Your Dimitri and Claude. Are they a couple or are they in a threesome with Byleth?" 

"Um." Ignatz pauses. "Well, Bereus is married to Dimitri, and Bella is with Claude." 

This Claude clicks his tongue. "You have to tell us if it's a Twin world."

"I know it feels normal to you," says Marianne, "But it's actually very unusual." 

Claude shakes his head. "Why even bother calling it an Emerald world if Claude and Dimitri aren't together?" 

"You'll have to excuse him," says Lorenz. "He's sour because his Dimitri doesn't like him." 

"And you'll have to excuse Lorenz," says Claude. "He's sour because he was born that way." 

"Need I remind you that I _killed you_ in my world?" 

Claude places a hand over one of Lorenz's. "And that's why it's going to be so exhilirating when we finally fuck." 

"I am not part of some enemies-to-lovers scheme, Claude von Rie-"

The younger Dimitri stands up and stretches. "Well, this is thrilling, but I should go. I need to water my friends." He waves in the direction of the platform. 

"You can't go! Lorenz hasn't even - let me get some glasses..." Claude ducks down behind the bar. 

"They're from your world?" Ignatz asks Dimitri. 

He nods. "Yes, they're my idiots. Don't mistake me - I'm very grateful they come to visit. But I don't think they treat this place as real and it's gotten them into trouble before. And they'll probably get into trouble again."

"Wait, here. You have to watch this." Claude puts three shot glasses on the bar. Each contains a small amount of white fluid. 

Lorenz sighs deeply, then dips a finger into and tastes the contents of each glass in turn. 

"... that's an omega. I'm going to guess 489 but could be 575. Second one... is a Dimitri with a sense of taste. I'll say - oh, no, it's 2048, definitely. Third one..." Lorenz gags abruptly. " _Fuck you_ that's a Sylvain. Is this 92's pet? How did you even get this?" 

There's a pause, then Claude holds out both arms towards Lorenz and says, "Ta-da!" 

Marianne and Mercedes clap. Lorenz crosses his arms and frowns at Claude. "Pay up." 

"Hey, I always honor a deal." Claude hands Lorenz a small card. 

Ignatz has _so many_ questions, and he's pretty sure he doesn't want most of the answers, so he squeaks out, "Do you even need money in here?" 

Lorenz holds out the card for Ignatz to look at. "This is far more valuable than _money_." 

Printed on the card is, "Lorenz was right," and Claude's signature. 

Mercedes leans in towards Ignatz and whispers, "If you want to place a bet on how long until they have sex, let me know, although a popular wager is, 'several months ago but they're lying about it.'"

"All right!" she then says out loud. "We should move on with the tour. Next stop is the greenhouse! Most of our food is imported but we do grow a variety of herbs and more unusual plants."

"Ah," says Ignatz, "so we'll be meeting a Dedue, I assume?" 

An actual _chill_ goes through the room. Ignatz sees both of the Dimitris stiffen. Only Claude seems to perk up. 

"... No," says Mercedes, eventually. "It's run by an Ashe and a Bernadetta." 

"There aren't any Dedues in residence," says Lorenz.

Claude shakes his hands at the ceiling. "And why noooooooot? Ignatz, if you find out The Dedue Secret, you have to let me know what it is." 

"You can't afford it," says Lorenz. 

"Why? Will I have to stay here _forever_ if I find out? Would that be so bad? Think about all the time we'll get to spend together." 

Mercedes leads Ignatz away and he's spared any further volleys in whatever battle of wits Claude and Lorenz are having. 

Ignatz knows he doesn't want to know this, but he also knows it's going to eat away at him, so he asks: "Mercedes, why is there - why does the bar have -" He puts his hands over his face, and continues, muffled, "- was that semen?" 

"Oh? Oh! I suppose that would seem unusual to an outsider. Well, it's there because we serve a variety of specialty _cock_ tails!" She bursts out laughing.

It's going to be a weird six months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for the way Sylvain and Felix were tied up comes from this: https://twitter.com/elvereid/status/1314671180184522753?s=20
> 
> Yes the last chapter will have a Dedue, finally.


	10. Dedue, voyeurism, misc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a Dedue in the House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was wild. If you came this far, thanks for reading. Will I write more? _Maybe_ , but definitely not till after I take a long break. (I know I referenced Flayn oviposition at some point and I'm trying to write that as a separate fic for monsterfucking weekend.) If you heard that I was trying to do a dimimari thing, that also is going to need to be a separate fic. 
> 
> This chapter has: a Dedue! Voyeurism, I guess, via a lot of things happening on tv monitors. Also a whole bunch of things for one sentence each - spanking, spitroasting, an R63 Dimitri, a fucking machine, an ambiguous monster, a dragon, unprotected mythology, a dude in a cage with a muzzle, Yuri being slightly mean (unrelated to the previous item)

Dedue looks at the monitors. It's unbelievable. How many Dimitris are here? How many Dimitris could be here?

He knew it hadn't made any sense when Dimitri died. The car was destroyed and there was a lot of blood, but where was his body? If he'd wandered off and survived for a time, why couldn't they find him? (Would someone steal a body? Who would steal a body?) 

"You say he's here. How do I know that's true?" 

Byleth - this Byleth, dressed in black and silver, with an easy confidence his fencing professor had never shown - shrugs. "I will not lie to you. I may refuse to answer a question but I will not lie. Of course, I cannot prove that, so you will have to trust me. Or not! You may leave at any time."

"... And whatever Dimitri I touch first is the one I choose?"

Byleth actually laughs. "Goddess, no. Touch all you want. Any Dimitri here would beg for your attention. Sleep with them all a dozen times if you please. When you want to make your choice, come find me."

Dedue looks at a monitor. There's a Felix on his hands and knees, mouth stretched wide around one Dimitri's cock while a second Dimitri wearing a strap-on drives into him from behind. 

Another screen shows a Dimitri, muzzled, in a metal cage, warily watching as a leather-clad Annette circles around him. 

Claude had helped him research. His other friends... they encouraged him to move on. Or if not to _move on_ , then to at least accept that his fiance was dead. But it didn't make sense. Where had his body gone? Claude hadn't believed Dimitri could be alive, of course. But he liked a good mystery and he helped Dedue look into what could have happened with his remains.

Dedue looks at another monitor. There's a Dimitri in a pool, with a... dragon?... wrapped around him. Somehow Dedue knows that it's Flayn. 

A blonde woman is riding another woman wearing a pushed-up red dress. He can't see her face. But the first woman... Dedue thinks it's what Dimitri would look like as a girl. 

There's a Dimitri who sort of looks like the right age and hairstyle. He's blindfolded and perched on a seat that must be a fucking machine of some type, based on how he shakes. A Mercedes is rubbing his shoulders and a Yuri sits a few feet away taking notes. 

It can't be his Dimitri. Can it?

"Yuri, please. Please turn it off. I can't take it," Dimitri says. Begs.

"You're going to have to, little prince. I told you it would be bad for a while after you came. I can turn it down but I'm not turning it off; that's the whole point of the show. Try to relax and think about the little friend you keep talking to behind my back." Dimitri moans, brokenly. "Oh, you really thought I didn't know? How adorable. I hope for your sake she's in the audience tomorrow." 

Dedue suddenly shakes his head and turns to Byleth. 

"If you focus on one screen you can hear the sound," Byleth says. "Fun, hm? Feel free to go down there if you want a closer look."

"I can... walk around?" 

"Yes, of course. The whole house is open to you." Byleth folds their arms and leans back slightly. "I don't think you understand how eager everyone is to see you. The staff will give you anything you want or need, and answer any question save one."

Claude hadn't sent him the scans of the book because he thought it was _true_. He just thought it was _interesting_. A myth, old enough that the containing book was written by hand. The god of time lost his lover, and in a fury broke the mirror that reflected the world. He was paralyzed by grief, and with no things able to happen, the brothers and sisters of his pantheon built him a craft to sail the heavens and traverse the broken shards. Ever after he wandered, stealing pale reflections of his vanished love. 

Claude had only sent him the book because of the names, because the lover was named Dimitri, and the god of the forge was named Dedue. 

And it couldn't be real, but the idea that Dimitri had been _stolen_ \- 

"And if I find my Dimitri we can leave?"

"Yes. It is the oldest rule in the House. I would never go back on that bargain. If you find your Dimitri, you may both leave."

"And if I don't, then you kill me?"

"Never, o cherished one. Perish the thought, not your body." Byleth smiles, wide and predatory. "If you guess wrong, then you stay." 

\- well, if Dimitri had been stolen, then Dedue would have to get him back.

#

This is the Bargain, struck between Byleth and their Dedue, in ages long gone in exchange for the forging of the House:

Any Dedue can enter the House, _once_. There is no special door for a Dedue, no secret entrance that must be hunted for. When a Dedue resolves to rescue his Dimitri, the next door is _the_ door. 

But he only gets one chance, for he may never return. If he finds his Dimitri, says _this is the one_ , then they may go home to their world, hearty and whole. (For "at the point of death" and "after death" are in truth not the same thing.) 

And if he chooses wrong... ? Then at last the House will have a Dedue who calls it home. 

Perhaps you would ask, "But why doesn't Byleth just go to places where Dedue is dead, or where he hates Dimitri?" And I would tell you there were two answers. The first is that Byleth is not running a prison. As heartbreaking as it is to meet and lose another Dedue, to say farewell to a treasured Dimitri, they cannot deny even a reflection of their old friend or fallen love.

The second is that _it doesn't stop them_. 

No Dedue has ever lost the Bargain. There is a force at work here that even Byleth cannot understand. They always know, in the end. Byleth has seen a Dedue walk past his Dimitri a hundred times and then suddenly turn and take his hand. Is it the way the light shines on his hair? The length of his steps? (The particulars of the way his cock lies firm and heavy in Dedue's mouth?) 

Byleth will lose this Dedue as well, but it is nice to have him visit for a while.

#

Dedue hugs a Dimitri. Too tight, even though it's so good to feel something even a little bit like Dimitri's embrace again.

He spends an hour or two with a Dimitri who is most certainly not a human and cannot possibly be his. But he seems so happy for the attention that Dedue cannot regret the time spent. (And the tail was an adventure of its own.) 

Does the time spent even matter here? 

He lies with two Dimitris at once. They do not even pretend to be his, but they ask politely and he needs a break from checking endless rooms to find only disappointment. They look identical at first, save for one wearing an eyepatch, but they reveal vastly different collections of scars. They sandwich Dedue between them and he learns the sorts of things the House teaches its residents. 

After, tangled in the sheets and each other, they tell him they know he will not stay. But will he say goodbye to them, before he leaves with his Dimitri? He makes them no promises. 

He sits in the greenhouse with Ashe and Bernadetta. They ask his advice on the plants, but they grow things he can't imagine existing. 

He watches a _lot_ of videos, makes a list, crosses off id codes that are wrong. Byleth won't explain the system, but Dedue isn't stupid. 

Dedue thinks maybe _this_ Dimitri is the right one? No, he doesn't sound right when he's being spanked. But... the groan is familiar when Dedue rubs the back of his neck. Maybe Dedue should hit him again. Just to check. 

He'll find him. He has to. _I'll bring you home._

#

The nights are growing colder. (And warmer. And staying the same. There are many shards.) This break to play raconteur has been a joy, but I have responsibilities to residents and guests alike I should not neglect.

Thank you for listening. May your shard float safe and whole in the comforting darkness. 

And come visit another time. My door is always open, if you can find it.

**Author's Note:**

> The artist justonevice made art for this fic, which is really freakin' cool: https://twitter.com/justonevice/status/1330777702681423874?s=20  
> (I am assuming it's ok to link it here; if it's not someone please let me know?) The shards correspond to chapters 1, 6, and 8, I believe.


End file.
